Stealing His Ship
by SaraBrianne
Summary: When pirates Sara Kendal & Brianne Macki meet during a tavern brawl, they know that they're going to get into trouble. When they steal the famous Jack Sparrow's ship, they learn just how much trouble two female captains and one Jack Sparrow can get into.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: No we don't own anything Disney, blah, blah, blah.

Author's Note: Hey all you Pirates fans! This is our first attempt at a group project, so tell us what you think!

Stealing His Ship

By Sara and Brianne

Prologue

If you asked anyone who had ever been to Tortuga or even some who had simply heard of the place which single inn best contained all that was Tortuga, they would all give you the same answer. The Night's Shadow inn was the best, the worst, and the roughest place in Tortuga. Not a single night went by without more then a dozen major brawls, some piece of furniture getting broken, and at least one broken window. Judging by the windows that had simply been boarded up instead of replaced and the lopsided way that the door hung on one of its hinges it seemed that the owner of the inn had long given up on the upkeep of his establishment. Women of ill repute flocked around the Night's Shadow as moths flock around a flame and pirates came from across the Caribbean simply to get drunk off the inn's famous rum.

All of these thoughts passed through Sara Kendal's mind as she stared up at the dilapidated building and considered going in. The streets of Tortuga were empty, or at least by the city's standards. All of the pirates, thieves, assassins, and simply unsavory people of the city had already raced into the closest inn or tavern in an attempt to escape the rainstorm that had quite suddenly decided burst to life. Only those who were leaving immediately for reasons only they new or those so inebriated that they couldn't move if they tried stayed out in the rain in Tortuga.

And then, of course, there was Sara. In a place where the world's strangest sights were an everyday occurrence, Sara doubted that anyone would notice a short woman of about five feet four inches in a baggy, salt-stained shirt, a tight brown vest, breeches cut mid-calf, a headscarf, large, gold hoop earrings, and long blonde hair that stuck to her back and sides standing in the middle of the street by herself in the rain simply staring at an inn and, if truth were told, she probably wouldn't care if anyone did notice. Sara loved rain. In fact, she loved water of any kind, from the tiniest raindrop to the entire ocean. It had been this love that had first inspired her to become a pirate, a life that she now loved so much she couldn't imagine being anything else.

Finally, after one last moment of contemplation, Sara strode forwards and opened the door to the Night's Shadow and stepped inside. The smells of alcohol, old and new, whatever meal had been served for dinner, sweat, and other smells that made one want to gag immediately assaulted her nostrils. It was just as chaotic inside as she had expected. She had to climb over three separate brawls simply to get to the bartender. She had to shout her order to the man behind the counter simply to be heard over the noise.

"I want some hot cider as soon as you can get it to me!" She shouted. The man behind the corner gave er a questioning look.

"Not much call fer cider here. May take me a bit t'find some," the man warned.

"Well then ya better get going," was her only reply as she pulled her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and rung it out, creating a small puddle of water near her feet. The bartender huffed in an annoyed way and waved his right hand towards the many barrels of rum and ale along the wall.

"Wouldn't ye jus' prefer somethin' normal like everyone else?" he remarked. Sara glared at the man and tried to fight down her frustration. Why couldn't anybody just do what they were told for once? It would make life so much easier.

"No, I want what I asked for. A little something about me, sir, I'm not normal or 'just like everyone else.' If it has alcohol in it, then I don't want it. I hate the stuff and, just so you know, it doesn't have to make you drunk to be good," she retorted.

She was telling the truth, she hated alcohol. She had never tasted any that pleased her taste buds in any way, and hangovers only made her cranky. Of course there was also the fact that the first and last time she got drunk was when she had just gotten her first ship and her crew had taken her to celebrate. She had gotten so drunk that she vomited all over her deck. The acid had ruined the wood, and she had never earned any real respect or even sympathy from her crew afterwards. She just stayed away from alcohol after that. Her answer seemed to confuse the bartender even more. Sara took a deep breath in an attempt to keep from strangling the man.

"Ye don' drink?" The man asked in wonder.

"Oh will you just get me the bloody drink already?!" she snapped as her temper finally came to a peak. She slammed a couple coins on the counter. She then pulled out her pistol from her sash and leveled it at the man's head. "Here's the money for it, now I don't care if you have to walk all the way across the city, but if you don't get me my drink in a respectable amount of time I swear you'll wish you had."

The man walked away slowly, and ran into his kitchen.

Moments later Sara was sitting in a corner of the room drinking a warm glass of cider and watching a group of drunks fighting across the room. It seemed that her threat had been well understood. She had only taken a few sips of her cider when a young man stood up from a crowded table full of other young men and their women, and staggered over to her table and sat down next to her. She grunted in annoyance at the man's arrival.

She had picked this table because it was empty. She had known that this inn would by busy, however, so she simply moved her chair farther away from the drunk and ignored him. The man responded by moving closer to her and putting his arm around her shoulders. As she sat her mug of cider down, his arm moved down her shoulder. She grabbed his hand as it was on her side, stopping it before it went somewhere she really didn't want it to go. She dug her nails into his hand hard enough to draw blood and then threw it back at him.

"You try that again and you'll find yourself with one less hand then you're used to," she threatened. Ever since her own experience with alcohol she had developed some patience with the intoxicated, but only some. A sober man who had done what this man had done wouldn't have been warned.

"S'that a threat?" The man angrily slurred. Sara pulled out one of her daggers and wiped it against her sash to keep it from rusting.

"What do you think?" She asked as she re-sheathed her weapon.

"No one threatens me," the man remarked.

"Well there's a first time for everything, darlin', now if you'll excuse me," she stood up and started walking away. In an instant the man stood up and grabbed her arm.

"Wha' kind o' pirate lass are ye?" the man demanded.

"One who doesn't like to be touched," she remarked as she reached for her knife.

The man grabbed her other arm as well and pulled her into a rough, demanding kiss. His lips were cracked and the reek of stale alcohol filled Sara's nostrils. She held back a gag as she threw her knee into the man's gut. He pulled away instantly and grabbed his stomach. In the instant that he was preoccupied with the pain spreading through his body Sara grabbed her mug of cider and threw the remaining contents in the man's eyes. He shouted in pain as Sara turned her back to him. She couldn't suppress the grin that curled up her lips at that moment. Though she had never really admitted it, this was the only reason she had entered the Night's Shadow inn in the first place. She had been rather stressed lately, and nothing calmed someone's nerves more then a brawl.

"Ye bloody wretch!" The man shouted. Sara simply stood where she was and waited to hear the whir of air as the man attempted to punch her. This would give her the excuse to start a true fight. She was just about to turn around and catch his fist, when she heard a voice behind her back.

"Tha's no way to treat a lady," a woman's voice remarked. Sara turned around in just enough time to see another pirate lass punch the man between his eyes.

The Night's Shadow. This name was different, much more alluring than the last inn Brianne had passed, whose weather-beaten sign had displayed the name The Blushing Bride. As much as The Blushing Bride fit Tortuga, The Night's Shadow fit Brianne. The name had a ring to it that reminded the once-captain of her old ship, the Midnight Dawn. She paused for a moment, thinking of that splendid glory of a ship that she had once sailed, hardly noticing the rain that had began falling on the dust encrusted streets of this city of pirates, thieves, prostitutes, and beggars. However, as she pushed open the door the overwhelming combination of noise, smell, and sound pushed away any previous thoughts.

It was quite a tavern. The smell of rum was purely delicious, and the several brawls already in progress made the pirate lass grin more than anything else. This inn was reputed to be one of the best in Tortuga. It was also known as one of the raunchiest, which was quite possible why it was known as one of the best. This was Tortuga, after all.

Brianne's grin continued as she saw one of the barkeeps look her over. She was sure that in her torn up, weathered leather overcoat and worn green bandana, she hardly looked her best. She probably wouldn't even be distinguishable as a female pirate, had it not been for her small size, and all too feminine looking face. As it was, she just looked like another weather-beaten pirate. And honestly, the coat was just bloody comfortable.

She continued in past the barkeep to one of the few empty tables that Brianne suspected would fall apart at any time. A barmaid, looking annoyed that her customer wasn't male, took her order of rum and left, presumable to get it. As the woman turned away, Brianne shook her head in disgust. How lowly must you be, to sink to that level? There were a very few that Brianne had met in her days that didn't sell their 'services.' It was downright disturbing. This was, in fact, why she hadn't been in this inn before now, being that when she had captained her own boat she tended not to stop in Tortuga, preferring that her crew stay away from these women. Still, she wasn't one to judge. She suspected that many people would think that she herself was downright disturbing. She dressed in mostly men's clothing, her entire left ear had several piercings, -starting from the ear lobe, and going all the way up her ear- and she had a few tattoos. Her hazel eyes went bright at the thought of her most recent one, and she grinned. Pulling back the right sleeve of her jacket, she flipped the underside of her wrist into view and looked at the tattoo of the crest of her ship. Damn, that 'urt. It was worth it though. All of her tattoos and piercings were.

The barmaid returned with her drink, and Brianne gave her a few coins to pay for it. She was about to take a drink when the phrase 'pirate lass' caught her attention. She looked up just as she saw a presumably drunk man grab a woman into a kiss. Being that this was rather usual to happen in Tortuga, Brianne react until she saw the woman pull away, knee the man in the gut (Brianne would have aimed a bit lower) and throw her drink in his face. As this was going on, she took her jacket off. She was almost positive that this would turn into a nice brawl, and she planned on putting herself right in it. I'm strange, I know, she thought to herself, but fighting in general is just fun. She also did enjoy a few of the looks she got from some of the guys around her. Brianne was wearing one of her favorite shirts, a white baggy shirt, under a vest very much resembling a corset, only not so tight and minus the pain. She saw the man about to throw a punch at the other girl, and quicker than you could say rum she had stood up between them and caught his punch in her left hand.

"Tha's no way to treat a lady," Brianne said with a grin, and punched him right between the eyes with her right hand. She grinned for a second time as she saw some of the man's friends stand up. Ah, another brawl. Fun.

Sara looked at Brianne, annoyance clearly laid out on her face. "Excuse me, but that was my punch you just stole there. I can take care of myself, you know."

Brianne grinned again, noticing that she had been doing that much more lately. "Ye know, I'm sure ye can, but I really couldn't resist a good punch to a bloke like tha'." In example, she punched one of the bloke's friends, and pulled his feet out from under him. When his head smacked the floor of the tavern, he didn't get back up.

"You obviously don't have that much self control," Sara replied, while trying to dodge the fist of one man and knock another man out. She was quite successful in both attempts.

A man had grabbed Brianne, and somehow had gotten both of her hands trapped in one of his ham-sized palms. Brianne answered, "Damn straight," right before she stomped on the man's toes in her heavy, mud-soaked boots. He shrieked like an eight year old daughter of a wealthy governor, and, sulking (obviously to the notice he saw his friends have of his shriek), went away. "I think I might have broke a few of those," she remarked, looking pleased.

"Well fine then," the Sara remarked as she punched the man Brianne was just about to hit.

Brianne looked unhappy for a second, but then she shrugged and said, "Well, at least we 'ave an understandin'."

At that point the Sara attempted to punch another man and he backed up into Brianne's table, avoiding the hit. One of the legs of the table collapsed causing the entire table to fall over, spilling her rum across part of the floor. As Brianne began nearly screaming, quite a few of the smaller fights in this brawl (mostly from the friends missing Brianne and Sara, and punching each other back and forth) seemed to stop. "That. . . was. . . me . . . bloody . . . RUM!" she screamed at the man as she advanced on him.

It was when Brianne began trying to properly bash the man's face in that some of the man's mates pulled the five foot five inch girl off the floor by her arms and tossed her (not so gently) into the muddy street outside. She sat there for a moment, positively fuming, before she realized how muddy it actually was on that street, and she stood up. I want me bloody rum, she thought. Before she could continue the thought, she saw the other girl pushed out the door. One of the barkeeps was at the door and yelled to them, "And ye two don't come back, ye here?!" He turned around, muttering, "I haven't had anyone thrown out in two bloody years," while he shook his head.

The girls looked at each other, and there was a moment of silence. Brianne suddenly said, "Ye know some bloke shoved his elbow in me eye? Probably on purpose too, rude bugger."

A/N: Please leave a Review!!!


	2. Ch 1: Pistol happy

Disclaimer: No, I don't bloody own Pirates of the Caribbean, I am only borrowing it (with every intention of returning it) (hopes Anamaria doesn't show up adding "But you didn't!) for the purpose of entertaining my friend and me, and whoever's brave enough to read this. Although, now that I think about, owning Jack Sparrow could be fun. Thinks mmm, jack. Also, I borrowed a few lines from Master of Disguise, and I don't own that. Oh, I just saw Terri Clark's video Girls Lie Too on CMT. Yeah, the one with the Jack-wannabe in it. If you haven't seen it, you should. Dirks Bentley's on. Have to go now.

Chapter One

The pirate lass looked at her strangely for a few moments. Then, a smile began on her face, and she started laughing.

"An' now ye laugh at me," Brianne stated grouchily. However, she had to admit that her statement had been one of the strangest so far that night.

The woman grinned again and said, "My name's Sara Kendal." She held out her hand.

Brianne looked at it for a moment, and then cautiously shook it. She replied, "The name's Brianne Macki. Pleased to meet ye." She noticed something from the woman's grip. "Ye are a captain," she accused.

Sara looked taken aback. "And how do you know that?"

"Ye got a good grip." _And I've got a lucky guess. _Brianne looked up at the rain that had been falling on them since they had been kicked out. "So how 'bout we head on over to that inn down the street, and get out of the downpour?"

Sara also looked up. "But I like the rain," she mentioned absently.

Brianne rolled her eyes and pulled on Sara's arm a bit to get her moving. As she was walking, she was still staring at the sky, enjoying the rain falling on her face.

Suddenly Brianne stopped when she remembered something. Sara, being that she was still looking up at the sky, bashed into her, before she looked back down to Earth and asked, "What the bloody heck was that for?" She was clearly angry. It seemed that she could go from calm to bloody angry just about as fast as Brianne could.

"Me coat," Brianne answered. She just stood there, and Sara gave her another strange look. "They've still got me damn coat!" Brianne took off at a run back towards the _Night's Shadow. _She reached the inn, and was about to go through the door, when she saw a tattered large piece of leather lying in a puddle of mud. She reached over cautiously and picked it up. She barely noticed that Sara had come up behind her, peering over her shoulder at the remains of Brianne's coat. Brianne looked at it. Her coat had apparently been pretty close to shredded – probably the man who she had punched (the first one, anyway) had found it. She sighed, and threw it back in the mud, clearly depressed. "Bloody bugger," she muttered. "Time for me to get meself a drink." She slowly walked toward the other inn, and she heard Sara comment sarcastically, "Oh, joy. Just what we need, more rum." Brianne ignored her.

They quickly reached the half-rotten looking door of the Blushing Bride,  
and entered. Brianne looked around, scanning the crowd. This inn was  
smaller than the last, and there was subsequently a smaller amount of  
people. In a shadowed left-hand corner there was a group of dark-skinned  
men examining a collection of jeweled daggers. On the right side of the  
room there was an old tan-faced man –quite drunk, from what Brianne could  
see- with a prostitute, most likely, sitting on his lap. When his head  
fell into her lap she laughed, most likely happy to have a guaranteed  
customer for at least part of the night, until she pulled his head up and  
noticed he as asleep. She scowled at the inebriated sleeping old man,  
but her scowl softened when she heard a voice say, "Come 'ere, luv," in a  
voice that sounded almost familiar to Brianne. She almost laughed when  
she saw that the man was none other than Jack Sparrow. He had been part  
of her crew many years back, on the Midnight Dawn. Since he had left her  
crew, she had heard rumors that he had regained his old ship, the Black  
Pearl.

Turning her head away from Sparrow, she saw Sara with a pistol to the  
head of one of the barkeeps. Brianne looked between the two of them and  
asked, "Wha's goin' on?"Sara answered, "The bloody man's being difficult.""I swear, there's nothing here without alcohol. No call for it here,"  
the man whined."Ye ask for water? Most 'ave that. An' mostly it don' 'ave alcohol in  
it," Brianne retorted.Before Sara answered, the barkeep replied, "We've got plenty of water,  
miss, as long as that pistol stays away from my head." Sara slowly put  
her pistol down, and the barkeep got the water. Brianne asked for an  
order of rum, and as soon as she paid, they both took their drinks over  
to the table, Sara stopping to look back on the barkeep. "You better get  
something better than this that doesn't have any alcohol in it soon. You  
never know when someone like me might be coming in here," she warned.Brianne ignored this, and sighed as she sat down. "Mmm, I love me rum,"  
she mentioned quietly before pouring half the drink down her throat. It  
send a nice burning, warm feeling all the way down her. She noticed Sara  
roll her eyes and take a drink of her water. "Wha'?" Brianne asked.Sara grinned. "Oh, I was just noticing how much of a fickle bugger you  
are wit' yer rum."Brianne stared at her, confused. "Fickle? With me rum?""You were so angry at that man for spilling your rum, and went after him  
like you were avenging the death of a friend. You nearly break the man's  
face and now you, just ten minutes later, have turned to another tankard  
and are coddling it like yer newborn child. Fickle, really."Brianne continued staring at her in disbelief. She then shrugged and  
continued downing her rum. Once that one was finished, she promptly  
ordered another.It was Sarah's turn to stare at Brianne in disbelief. "Are you just  
going to keep drinking that bloody rum until you are as inebriated as  
that man over there?" To Brianne's amusement Sara had gestured towards  
Sparrow.She pretended to think for a few moments. "Umm . . . yeah, tha' is the  
general idea." She paused. "No actually, Sara, I've decided I'll only  
'ave three . . . maybe four . . . well five at the mos' . . . actually,  
me dear, I won' say 'ow many because I fear the number will jus' keep  
going up and we wouldn' wan' tha', would we?""Oh, heavens no," Sara sarcastically replied. "If you want to get  
bloody wasted and find yerself waking up not being able to see straight  
or think due to your hangover then go right ahead. Just don't blame me  
when you wake up mugged and lying in the gutter or in some elderly chap's  
bed. I won't even help you, just tease you mercilessly."Brianne decided to change the subject, after taking another large gulp of  
the sweet drink in her hand. "So yer a cap'n. Tha's nice. I was a  
cap'n, few years back. Had me own ship 'n all. Midni' Dawn. Beau'y she  
was. Los' 'er though. To a no' so nice 'n friendly bloke. Idio', tha'  
one. Smar' idio' though." She noticed that she was starting to babble.  
"Sorry, kind'a go' carried away there. Anyway, I was thinkin', possibly  
I could join yer crew? A' leas' 'till I can ge' enough money to ge' me  
own ship. So, 'ow abou' it?" she asked."Sounds great," Sara replied. "Only one problem. I don't have a ship."  
Brianne looked at her questioningly. "I haven't found one I like,  
recently," she explained."Recently? Ye mean ye 'ad one before?" Brianne questioned."Yes, a few, actually.""Wha' 'appened?""I crashed it to get away from some unsavory chap who was after me.""Ye' CRASHED it? On purpose?" Brianne sounded flabbergasted."Well I wasn't about to give it back to the gent, he was a jerk.""So it wasn' yers?" Brianne questioned."Nah, never had one of my own before."Brianne was still confused, slightly. She looked from her rum, to Sara,  
then back at the rum. Suddenly she shrugged. "Okay, then." She took  
another drink of her rum, finishing the second one off. "Ye know, Sara,  
I'm having a though' 'ere.""And if that doesn't involve any more rum, would you explain what this  
thought is?"With that comment Brianne went over to a table near Sparrow's. Sara had  
followed her, out of curiosity, Brianne supposed. Brianne sat down with  
her back to Sparrow, and Sara sat near her. Brianne spoke to the barmaid  
on Sparrow's lap without turning around. "Ye migh' wan' to be careful  
with tha' one. He 'as an itchin' problem. Migh' be a rash, migh' no'.   
Either way, contagious, no doubt."The wench nearly flew off his lap, a look of disgust on her face.  
Sparrow hopelessly called out, "'Ey! Wait!" but to no avail. He turned  
to Brianne's back."Do I even know ye, lass?" he asked, clearly confused and quite annoyed.Brianne looked smug. "I would be imaginin' ye do, Sparrow. Ye were only on  
me ship for five bloody annoying months."Jack pondered this. A few moments later he asked, after looking the back  
her over, "Macki? Isn' ye, is it?"She turned around, grinning. "The one 'n only. Who else could so easily  
keep the wenches off of ye?""Good poin'. Come over 'ere." He pulled the small woman onto his lap."Ye callin' me a wench?" Brianne asked, about to get angry."No, Macki, settle down, why don' ye? I'll buy ye another drink, ye need  
it," he said as he proceeded to do so. "So, who's yer charmin' friend?"  
he asked, looking over at Sara. She hadn't said much of anything since  
she had followed Brianne."Oh, 'at's Sara Kendal. Me' 'er in the inn down the stree'. We were in  
a pretty good brawl, an' go' kicked ou'," she told him as she drank her  
rum. Mmm that's good stuff, she thought.Jack looked Sara over and grinned. "'Ow abou' a welcome kiss? One of  
those 'pleased to mee' ye' type those Frenchmen are so fond of?"Sara scowled and answered, "If you want me to bite your tongue off."Jack's eyes widened, and he turned back to Brianne. "Would she really do  
that?""Wha' do ye think, Sparrow? The lass jus' threatened to shoo' th' barkeep  
over some water. She don' like to be touched, is all." Again Jack sent  
Sara a strange look. Noticing this, Sara grinned."She don' like to be touched?" Jack whispered to himself, as if the  
phrase were foreign and he had to get used to saying it. It was obvious  
that the thought had never reached his mind that a woman might not want  
him."Besides, I wouldn't want to catch that rash ya have."Jack sighed dramatically. "So young, so beautiful, ye' so cynical. Why  
couldn' she be born a hag?" He looked at Brianne. "Ye are a lo' nicer,  
ye know. 'Ow abou' givin' ol' Jack a kiss?"Brianne pulled out her pistol. She ignored Sparrow making the comment  
that all pirate lasses were pistol-happy (he had evidently seen the  
episode with Sara earlier) and said, "If yer lips stop flappin' I might',  
an' I migh' no' shoo' yer lips straigh' off of yer face.""Pu' the pistol away, luv." Three guesses as to who that was.Brianne did acquiesce to his request, but then said, "This is wha' yer  
doin'." She made her hand indicate talking. "This is what I wan' ye to  
do." She made the hand shut, to indicate the stopping of talk.Jack grinned. "Shut up, luv," he said, before he kissed her. He grinned  
against her mouth as Brianne deepened the kiss. Suddenly she noticed that  
Sara was nearly between them, on the side of their heads."Ew, Jack, that was your tongue in her mouth! Gross!" This didn't  
interrupt them, they just kept on going. "So," Sara asked, undaunted,  
"What does he taste like?"Brianne stopped for half a second, and took a deep breath, said, "Rum,"  
then they were back at it."Really, luv?" Jack asked as Brianne began kissing his neck. He returned  
the favor as she replied, "Yeah. Delicious, really." Their mouths met  
one more time until Brianne pulled back. "Wha' are ye doin'?""Kissin' ye, does it look like somethin' else I don' know 'bout?""Yer han's sure as 'ell no' kissin' me!" Brianne had her pistol back out  
again, this time aimed at Jack's hand, which was on her thigh. "Which  
finger ye wan' blown off? Yer thumb? No ye need a thumb, yer no' an ape  
. . ." she looked him over, and finished, "yet. Yer pinky? Naw, make ye  
unbalanced. Well, more unbalanced. Ring finger? Nay, ye got enough  
rings, ye need tha' finger. Happy finger? No, tha's jus' inhumane.  
I've go' it! Yer index!"Jack looked at her. "Ye've changed a lot, ye know tha'? Ye 'ave lost  
the whole 'holier tha' thou' act ye had a lot' when I was par' of yer  
crew."Brianne put her pistol away, and answered, "Yeah, I 'ave. Ye were  
expecting . . . ?" Jack just looked at her. "Well, of course I've  
bloody changed! When I'm a cap'n of me own ship I 'ave a rule, ye migh'  
have noticed, I don't touch any of the men! Well, a' leas' no' like  
tha'.""So ye don' have the Dawn anymore then?" he asked.Brianne glared at him. "No, I don', ye bloody bloke. Rather no' talk  
abou' tha' particular incident, if ye don' mind." She paused. "Speakin'  
of regainin' and losin' ships, I 'eard ye finally go' the Black Pearl  
back."Jack grinned, and began to tell them how exactly he had done that. By  
the end of his tale, both Brianne and Sara were looking skeptical. He  
finished, "An' then they made me their cap'n."Sara asked, "About the island. So this was the second time ya got  
marooned, and ya got off the same way both times?"Jack answered, "Aye. I waded ou' there for three days, till all manner  
of sea creatures became accustomed to me presence, then roped meself a  
couple of sea turtles an' made a raft, savvy?"Sara thought for a moment. "One," she said. "What about the girl,  
Elizabeth? You said you saved her, too, that she was on the island."Well, once I 'ad roped meself the sea turtles, I yelled back to the  
island, where Elizabeth had been waiting. She waded ou' to me, throwin'  
'er arms around me, thankin' me for savin' 'er life."They still looked skeptical, and Sara asked, "What did ya use for rope?""Human hair. From me back.""But you don't have 'air on yer back!" Brianne objected. They looked at  
her, trying to figure out exactly how she knew, and Sara grinned. "Ge'  
yer mind ou' of the gutter," she told Sara. "He was par' of me crew,  
remember? His entire purpose in life a' tha' poin' was to try to make me  
act like I wanted him. So of course, thinkin' that his 'manly body',"  
she laughed, "would make me lose me cool, he did near all of 'is work withou' 'is shir' on.""An' now ye can' keep yer hand's off of me," Jack mentioned, grinning.

Brianne just glared at him, muttering, "Bloody bugger," under her breath. Of course, it should be noted that Brianne was becoming quite inebriated, being that she was on her fourth drink (which Sparrow had just bought for her), and that 'under her breath' was meaning that she didn't scream it.

"Anyway," she said, "Ye still didn' answer me question. Which finger do ye wan' blown off??

Jack answered, "Actually, being tha' I enjoy the use of all of my fingers, how's abou' ye don' blow off any of them?" Brianne continued glaring at him, and he began glaring back at her.

"Well, better than the previous. At least they've both got their tongues in their own mouths," Sara muttered. "So Sparrow, I would presume the Pearl's in the harbor over there. Which one is she?" One of the only un-boarded windows showed a rather nice view of the harbor. Well, that is if you looked at only the harbor on, not any closer. Any closer and you could see drunken men passed out in the streets, several brawls, half-naked losers of intense gambling, prostitutes out to find business, and everything between.

Sparrow pointed out the Black Pearl. It was the one closest to the left-hand edge of the window. Brianne saw the intense gaze Sparrow had on it, and couldn't resist commenting. "Damn, Sparrow. Ye look like yer passionately in love with yer boa'. 'Ave ye wooed her into submission ye'?"

He looked back to her. Brianne was doing her best to look innocent. It wasn't working, she was just looking more drunk than she had. Instead of replying to her, Sparrow stood up, dumping her off of his lap. Brianne nearly fell, only saved by grabbing onto the table (thank goodness it was better than the one at the Night's Shadow). He walked a few steps away, and turned around towards them. "I'm goin' to find meself some better company. Lovely meetin' ye, Kendal. Macki." With that, he continued walking -actually, he was sashaying, but let's not be picky- away from them.

Brianne sat down, and finished her fourth drink. "He means a prostitute, ye know," she said. "Bloody whores."

She saw Sara look from Sparrow, to the Pearl, to Brianne. Finally, she said, "Brianne, I'm having a thought here. You, basically need a ship, and I need a ship. How do you feel about stealing –his- ship?"

Review! Review! Please! Review!


	3. Ch 2: The Black Pearl

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that Disney claims. I don't own Brianne Macki, though I doubt I would want to. I could claim to own Sara Kendal, but that would be like Dr. Frankenstein trying to own his monster. I just thought her up, she gave herself life.

A/N: Jeez, we get a review and what does Brianne do? She ignores it! Sorry Shimmeringtears, Brianne can be spacey sometimes. Anyway, THANK YOU! Or first review! Seriously, there's nothing better then knowing that your story is enjoyed by at least one person. Hope you keep reading! To everyone else who may be reading and isn't reviewing, please do!

**Chapter Two: The Black Pearl's New Management**

The sun rose lazily over Tortuga. Sara Kendal was completely convinced that the sun rose so hesitantly in Tortuga just because it was met by so many curses, winces, and annoyed sighs. Sara watched the sun rise from the window inn her room. It overlooked the bay, meaning it also overlooked the ships in the harbor. Sara's eye was again caught by The Black Pearl resting comfortably just off shore. Sara was again captured by the Pearl's tall black sails and the magnificent way it sat on the water. She knew that the Pearl would be fast just by looking at her. Sara's fingers itched to touch the polished spokes of the Captain's wheel. Though she'd never say it aloud, Sara Kendal longed for the sea. She knew that every pirate felt the same desire she was feeling, and she was often quite talented at pushing her emotions aside, but the problem with suppressing a need is that when you finally acknowledge it, it returns twice as horrid as before. She hadn't slept much that night, for her mind had been buzzing with ways that she could commandeer the object of her desires. Brianne was going to help her, of course. She may not remember it, being that she promised to help while she was horribly drunk, but a promise is a promise.

Another reason to avoid alcohol, she thought, no hangovers. She grinned as the thought of hangovers as she crept down the hallway towards Brianne's room. She knew that what she was about to do was cruel and unusual, but in all fairness, she had warned her.

Brianne's door was unlocked; Sara had known it would be. By the time the other pirate lass had staggered to bed she was so drunk that Sara hadn't known if she even knew what room she was going into. Sara crept quietly into the room, careful not to wake Brianne. The long, heavy curtains were pulled over the window, keeping all light away from the room's drunken inhabitant. Sara quietly felt the bed, making sure only one person was huddled underneath the blankets, and then sat on the corner of the mattress and stared unblinkingly at Brianne. After a few minutes Brianne started to turn a bit in her dreams as Sara's gaze unsettled her. In one of her turns she moved around until she faced Sara. Sara then stood up, crept over to the window. In a quick movement she drew the curtains aside, letting the bright sunlight stream onto Brianne's sleeping face. Brianne winced in her sleep, slowly opened one eye, winced, and turned over. Sara smiled.

"Come on, Brianne, get up! Come on, the sun is shining, the birds, well, they would be singing if there were any in this bloody city. Get up!" she called. Brianne growled and put her pillow over her head. "Oh, come on now! Get up!" Sara raised her voice so Brianne could hear her through the pillow.

"Ow! Ow ow ow! Wha' the bloody 'ell is tha' for?"

"Now that wasn't very nice, get up, you lazy cad, we've got work to do."

Brianne finally sat up, a slight wince in her bloodshot eyes and a definite expression of anger on her face.

"Yikes! Don't you look like you skipped yer beauty sleep last night," Sara announced.

"Damn ye, close the bloody windows!"

"Again with the unpleasant language! I think you have anger issues." Sara sat in a chair near Brianne's be. She hung one leg over an armrest and let the other simply hang limply to the floor. She examined one of her fingernails as she waited for Brianne to get out of bed. "I'm sure your hangover will go away soon enough."

"And who might ye bloody be?" Brianne finally snapped.

"Aww, you hurt me. And after all we went through together."

"Wha' the 'ell are ye talkin' abou'?" Brianne moaned.

"Here, let me introduce myself. My name's Sara Kendal, how do you do?" Sara put her hand out for Brianne to shake. Brianne stared down at Sara's hand and her eyes widened, or at least they went as wide as they could without making Brianne's headache any worse.

"Ah yes, I remember. Ye were the lass from th' Night's Shadow."

"Yep. Do ya happen to remember what else happened last night, or do I have to refresh your memory?" Sara asked. Brianne looked at her blankly for a few moments, as if she were trying desperately to organize her thoughts.

"Ye know, I can' remember a thing. How much did I drink las' nigh'?" She asked herself.

"Well I counted six mugs of rum and what looked like three shots of vodka, but I can never tell."

"Vodka? I hate vodka."

"Well you apparently liked it last night. I was going to say, however, that I can't know exactly how much you drank last night."

"Well why the 'ell no'? Ye were there, weren' ye?" Brianne demanded. Sara grinned.

"I was there, yes, but you had your tongue so far down Jack Sparrow's throat that you probably could have swallowed some of the alcohol in him."

"Sparrow? Jack . . . Sparrow? Oh bloody 'ell, he's never goin' to let me 'ear the end of it," Brianne muttered, putting the blanket over her head.

"No, probably not, but lucky for you we won't be around the bloke for long," Sara stated."Wha' do you mean?""You really don't remember anything, do you?""How could I?" Brianne snapped.Sara then grinned and proceeded to tell Brianne everything that had happened the other night, and in great detail. Brianne clenched her teeth and moaned throughout the entire story until Sara ended when Brianne had staggered up to her room to go to sleep. When Sara had stopped talking, Brianne rolled over and buried her head in her pillow."Ugh, I'm not goin' down there, not until Sparrow's gone, at least.""Scared?" Sara asked."Nah, just don' want to kill the bloke is all. He'll poke fun at me so much I'll 'ave to shoot him," Brianne replied."Well from what I've met of the man, I doubt it will be much of a loss. He really gets on my nerves."

"He has a tendency to give ye that feeling."

"Yes, well, like I said before, we won't have to deal with him for long," Sara reminded her new friend. Brianne grinned at the thought of stealing the Pearl right out from underneath Jack Sparrow's nose."So, ye have a plan in that twisted little mind o' yours?" Brianne inquired. Sara grinned again."Yes, but I'll need your help.""Whatever ye wan', I'll try to help," Brianne remarked. Sara looked up at Brianne and nodded."All right, but I'll hold you to it."ï¤

"Oh no, no I will not. Ye do it!" Brianne shrieked about an hour later.

"I told you I'd hold you to it, and I can't, I have to get a few things before we can do anything. You need to watch Jack and make sure he doesn't see me near his ship," Sara replied.

"I am not 'watchin'' Jack, as you put it, I'm not goin' anywhere near him."

"Then I'll steal his ship without you and leave ye all alone with your precious lil' captain," Sara retorted. "This is a team effort, Macki."

Brianne appeared to be thinking things over for a few seconds, then answered, "Fine. I'll baby-sit little Sparrow, while ye do whatever the hell it is yer doin'. But this better be worth it."

ï¤

The inn was again bustling with rowdy drunks and whores when Sara again arrived at the Blushing Bride. She carried a large cotton bag slung over her shoulder as she looked around for Brianne. It was near dinner time, and many of the more alcoholic members of Tortuga's society were busy getting as drunk as they could. Sarah spotted Brianne among these drunks, sitting at a table talking to Jack Sparrow. Sara grinned at Brianne as Brianne looked pleadingly in Sara's direction. Sara nodded in Brianne's direction. Brianne leaned across the table, said something to Jack, who got up and walked over to the bar and ordered two mugs of rum. While Jack was busy getting drinks, Brianne and Sara walked out of the commons and back into Brianne's room. They escaped the bar just as Jack turned around and stared in confusion at the table that he and Brianne had been sitting at. Noticing that Brianne was gone, he simply took swigs out of both mugs of rum, and sat down at his table a second time.

"I sure hope ye got everythin' ye wanted, because I just spent the last three hours enduring that man, and I'm in no way goin' back there."

"Don't worry, you won't have to. I got everything," Sara announced.

"Good, now will ye please tell me what exactly yer plannin' on doin'?"

Sara brought the bag off of her shoulder and, just before she opened it, noticed the long, brown coat slung around Brianne's shoulders.

"Where'd you get that?" Sara asked.

"I spent so long with Jack that he owed me somethin'. I lost me coat, and now I have a new one," she responded as she pulled the heavy material closer around her shoulders.

Sara shrugged, and then emptied the bag onto Brianne's bed. The bag had held a fairly clean, patched serving woman's dress, a pair of short, black boots, and a tan corset. Brianne raised her eyebrows at the outfit, and eyed Sara strangely.

"Okay, what are those for?" she questioned the blonde woman. Sara grinned a bit nervously, and slung one arm around Brianne's shoulders.

"That, my dear Brianne, is for you," Sara answered. Brianne pulled out of Sara's grip and stared at her with wide eyes.

"Excuse me? What do ye mean, for me, I'm no bloody whore!" Brianne announced.

"You see, Brianne, I know that, and you know that, but the two men that Jack left to watch his ship don't know that."

Catching where Sara was going with this whole idea, Brianne backed up a bit. "Oh no ye don't. I'm not wearin' that thing anywhere, let alone to the docks in an attempt to lure a couple lonely sailors off of their ship. Nope, I won't do it."

"Brianne, you have to. We need to get those men off of the ship, and this is the best way to do it," Sara answered. Brianne seemed lost in thought for a moment, but then her eyes lit up as an idea hit her mind.

"Sorry to burst yer bubble, Kendal, but I can't do that. Sparrow was part of me crew a few years back, remember? I knew a few members of his crew. What if the men I'm leading away recognize me? Wouldn't that ruin yer entire plan?"

"Oh I doubt Sparrow has the same crew now that he had then," Sara replied. Brianne shrugged.

"He might or he might not. It's up to ye. Now if it was me, I would simply not take the chance, but I'm not ye."

"Nah, I know what you mean. I'll just have to think up a different plan." Sara sighed. Brianne picked up the dress.

"Well I don't know about a different plan. Ye never had any experience with Sparrow or his crew. Ye could do it." Sara looked up at Brianne in shock.

"Me, prance around like some dockside whore looking for her next customer? You have to be crazy."

"Well ye seemed happy enough when I was the one bein' the whore," Brianne pointed our.

"I wouldn't even know what to do."

"Don't worry, lass," Brianne grinned as she picked up the corset, "I'll help ye."

"Oh joy."

ï¤

Sara gasped in pain as she held onto the footboard of Brianne's bed. Brianne stood behind her, tightening Sara's corset strings.

"Brianne, you can stop now, it's bloody tight enough already!" Sara proclaimed.

"No it's not. You've seen how the most popular whores dress, their waists are no bigger then two hands together and their chests are kept in by nothin' but will power," Brianne announced as she placed one foot on Sara's back and used it to pull the strings tighter.

"Well I'll let you in on a couple little secrets, Brianne, my waist will never be that small, for I have a little something called bones that tend to get in the way. That and if you're waiting for my chest to pop out, don't, there's not much up there to begin with."

"Oh, nonsense, bones are very overrated, and, about you chest, you've got enough to work with. Now stop squirming, I'm almost done," Brianne responded.

"You sound like you're enjoying this far too much," Sara complained as she tried to catch her breath.

"That's because I am. This is payback for this morning."

"You're a sadist, you know that?" Sara retorted.

"Aye, and so are you, I'd say."

Sara moaned in pain as Brianne tied the final knot and let her go. Sara felt her waist, feeling the hard fabric, and winced. She finally let go of the footboard, grabbed the dress off of the bed, threw it over her head, did up the back, and turned to face Brianne. Brianne stared at the small woman and shook her head in disbelief.

"I have no idea how you do it."

"Do what?" Sara asked.

"Look so respectable all the time. You are the only woman I know of that can look like a respectable pirate lass, and now ye look like a respectable whore. Isn't that contradicting itself?" Brianne wondered. Sara rolled her eyes and reached for the door knob.

"I don't care what I look like as long as it gets the job done, now let's leave before I talk myself out of this."

"Uh, Sara?"

"What?" Sara demanded of Brianne.

"Well, for starters, don't be so annoyed with me, I'm the one who's again keepin' an eye on Sparrow for ya while you take over his ship, so it's not like you're the only one suffering. Secondly, no man in his right mind will believe yer a whore if ye walk like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're boarding a ship. You have to walk a bit daintier, and swing your hips a bit." Sara rolled her eyes.

"Brianne, I don't need advice about how to walk like a whore any more then you do, so keep it to yourself."

"Oh, in a bad mood, are we?" Brianne responded. Sara glared at her.

"Come on, let's just go."

Sara pulled open the door, and took one step out into the inn. Upon hearing all of the drunken voices in the tavern, she turned around, nearly tripping over her skirts in the process, and grabbed Brianne/Jack's coat and threw it over her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Brianne asked as Sara buttoned the jacket closed.

"I'm saving as much of my dignity as I can. Now remember, be on the Pearl in an hour. We want to be well away from shore by dawn. Don't want to give the dear captain a chance to catch up with us, now do we?" Brianne grinned and stared out of her window at the night air, her gaze resting on what would have been the harbor, if it were visible.

"All right, miss Sara, happy hunting, and don't hurt the poor chaps too badly. I'll see ye in an hour."

Sara checked to make sure that her knives in her boots, on her back, her sword hidden in her skirts, and her pistol in her waistband were all in place, and then she walked out of the Blushing Bride and headed for the docks.

ï¤

Sara stood in the shadows beside a building near the docks as she stared at the Black Pearl in the harbor. There was no commotion on the deck, the men guarding the vessel must have been below deck. Just a few hours ago when she had been buying the dress that she was now wearing, there had been only two men on duty. She had heard the men mention that Jack assigns two members of his crew to stay aboard the Pearl at all times. Two men Sara could handle easily, but she was too wary to count on there only being a couple men. Her luck was never that good.

As she stared, she suddenly noticed a movement on the main deck. As she looked closer, she noticed that it was a young lad of only twenty or so. He leaned over the rail of the Pearl, a bottle of rum in one hand, and gazed longingly at the nearest pub. Sara's breath caught in her throat as she realized that this was her best time, if there was a good time, to act. She grimaced down at the painfully tight dress and took as deep a breath as she could. She had done a lot of stupid things for a ship before, but never anything like this. Realizing that she would lose her chance by delaying, however, she quickly undid Jack's coat, and dropped it down onto her elbows, carrying it as one might a shawl. She plastered a false smile on her face, and looked around to make sure no one she knew was near. Once she was certain that she was alone, she sashayed out onto the dock that the Pearl was tied to, and walked up to the base of the gangplank.

"Hello up there!" She called. The boy's head immediately snapped her way, his eyes locked onto her. Sara kept smiling, but inside she was thinking 'Oh my gosh, I'm luring a baby.' It never occurred to her that she was only four years this man's senior, but experiences in her past made her feel much older. Despite her feelings, however, she again called up to the lad. "Now what would a strappin' man like yerself be doin' up there all alone?" She used a fake slur, knowing that not many whores spoke like she did.

"Well I wouldn't be up here all by meself if ye came up here," he answered with a perverted smile on his face. Sara felt her stomach turn over in disgust at the look in the boy's eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I be terrified o'ships. Now if ye came down here, well, tha' would be a di'ffrent story entirely," she prodded.

The lad looked around the ship, and then back down at Sara and grunted in annoyance. "I can't. Me captain has me watchin' his ship. I'm not allowed to leave."

Sara pretended to sigh in disappointment. "Well, yer captain's not here now, is he? And there's another bloke up there I'll bet, so..."

"Yeah, there's one other chap up here, but really, me captain'd skin me if I left me post."

Sara again sighed, and then turned around. "All righ', maybe later, aye?" She then proceeded to walk slowly away from the gangplank. She slowed and grinned a bit when she heard the loud clunk of boots walking down the gangplank as the boy gave in to her proposition. She stopped when she felt hands grasp her waist and a hand slide down one of her hips and place a few coins in her pocket.

"I think I've changed me mind."

Sara instantly turned to get away from this man's touch, but ended up facing him. She was instantly regretting her plan of action, but she couldn't seem to back out now. She tried to tell him that she to had changed her mind, but his mouth instantly sealed over hers. She backed out of his kiss, but he simply grinned, trailed a few kisses down her jaw, and proceeded to kiss her neck. While the man was busy with her throat, Sara reached behind her back and slowly drew her knife out of its sheath on her back. As quickly as she could, she slammed the blade's hilt into the base of the man's skull. He dropped like a rock to the pier, completely unconscious.

Sara grimaced as she stepped over the man and used Jack's coat sleeve to wipe the spit off of her neck. She hadn't let a man that close to her in years, and just the thought of doing it again made her skin crawl. There was still one man aboard that ship, however, and chances were that she would have to repeat the experience she had just had with the young lad with this other crew member. Ohh, she was going to murder Brianne for making her do this.

She cautiously climbed aboard the Pearl, looking around as she went.

"Hello?" She called out to the ship. "Hello?"

She heard a gruff grunt, and someone mutter as they stomped up the steps that led below deck. The door was opened and a very annoyed elderly chap walked onto the deck. The first thing Sara thought when she saw the man was the word 'badger.' He had long, grey side-burns that nearly reached his chin. His hair, when combined with his fairly round head, made him appear very much, to Sara at least, to be a badger.

"I'm sorry, lass, but Captain Sparrow isn't here right now, so I'd appreciate it if ye'd leave," the man stated. Sara stood up a bit taller, and took a step towards the man.

"Well what if I wasn' here t'see yer Captain? Ye look like a right handsome man yerself," she purred.

The older man cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, and then looked Sara right in the eye. "Then I s'pose ye'll be fairly disappointed, cause ye won't find business with me."

Sara almost lost track of her act at the man's refusal. 'Well, well, a man-pirate with morals, how original.' She wasn't about to give up on this man, but it was quite clear to her that she would have to improvise with him. A sudden idea popped into her head, and she smiled as she drew even closer to him.

"Oh, come now, are ye sure ye won' change yer mind?" Sara asked. The man sighed in frustration, and pointed to the gangplank.

"No, I won'. Get back to yer willin customers, miss." Sara came even closer, playing on the man's annoyance and frustration. If she could just break through his shell of patience...

Finally, the man snapped, his patience worn through. He grabbed Sara's arm, and walked her down the gangplank, just as she had wanted.

"Oy, what are ye doin' mate?" She questioned.

"I'm escorting you off o'the ship. Don't come back," he commanded as he reached the dock.

"There's just one problem with that, sir," Sara announce while losing her fake accent.

"And wha's that?" The man questioned.

"This ship's now mine." Sara reached around, grabbed the man's arm that was holding her's, and threw him into a nearby crate. The man slumped unconsciously to the ground. Surprisingly, Sara felt a bit of guilt for hurting the man. He seemed like a good enough man, if there was such a thing. Under normal circumstances she probably would have enjoyed getting to know him. As it was, however, Sara had finally achieved her goal. The Black Pearl now lay before her, completely empty and just waiting for her.

ï¤

The first thing Sara did was search the entire ship, making sure that there truly was no one else on board. She immediately noticed that not only was there no one else on board, but the Pearl was completely stocked and ready to go. It seemed that Sparrow had done at least one constructive thing while in Tortuga, and that was to get it stocked with food and have any holes or leaks patched.

When all seemed in order, Sara made her way towards Sparrow's main quarters. The door was unlocked, so she simply walked inside. The room was a bit disheveled, but it wasn't messy. Maps and charts were strewn across an oak desk along the left wall and across a large bed. There was only one bookshelf in the room, with three, dusty books on the top shelf. It was obvious that Mr. Sparrow was not much of a reader. Sara like the room, or at least the room with a few changes, and was already thinking of it as hers.

As she walked towards the door to a small closet, she winced as her corset pinched part of her side. Knowing that her job was done, she walked over to Jack's closet. She didn't have a change of clothes with her, but she had plenty of Jack's clothes. She took a moment to pick a shirt and pair of breeches that seemed clean, but then she didn't hesitate to replace the horrid dress and corset with Jack's clothes.

Once she was dressed, she walked out onto the main deck and looked out at the streets. Brianne should have been back by now, but as hard as she looked, Sara couldn't seem to spot her. She moaned impatiently, and then walked back into 'her' cabin to straighten it up.

Jack's desk was fairly dull. Most of the drawers only held maps and various bits of parchment. The large drawer on the left side had a false bottom with a bottle of rum in it, but that hardly interested Sara. She took a moment to sort the maps and place them in separate drawers, but nothing seemed to jump out at her as important. Once the room was fairly tidy, Sara resorted to drumming her fingers on the desktop. As her fingers tapped the desk's surface, a slight impression met her fingertip. Sara turned towards the impression and grinned. She moved her finger across the slight dip and wasn't surprised when a small piece of oak slid back, revealing a pigeonhole compartment.

It was cleverly concealed, but that only made Sara more curious. There was only enough room in the cylindrical hole to hold a rolled piece of paper. Using her index and middle fingers, Sara drew the paper out of the desk and looked it over. It was a map. She held it out under the moonlight streaming into the cabin from one of the windows. She recognized a few of the islands the map portrayed, but she wasn't very familiar with the area. There was writing across the top of the paper, but, to Sara's annoyance, the writing was all in Latin. Sara had a fairly good grasp on Spanish, being that most maps in the Caribbean where written in it, but only rich kids and scientists knew Latin. The map was obviously important, however, and it intrigued her. Where did it lead? What was it for? All of these thoughts ran through Sara's head as she tucked the map into the back of her breeches. At the next port she landed in she would look for a translator.

As she thought over the map, Sara turned down the blankets on her bed, and coughed. Her nostrils were immediately assailed by smells of alcohol, sweat, and other assorted smells that Sara had no desire to identify. How long had it been since Sparrow had changed his sheets? Sara reached down and pulled the sheet off of the bed, and was surprised to find another underneath it. She bent over and looked at the bedding and nearly burst out with laughter. So that's how Jack Sparrow cleaned his bed. There was no less then eight sheets piled on top of each other. It seemed that instead of changing his sheets, Jack would simply add another to the top of the pile. She turned to Jack's old closet in an attempt to find a new sheet. She looked for nearly five minutes before she found one, but when she turned around to change them, she was surprised to see something moving under the covers.

"Mmmm, bed." Brianne muttered as she climbed under the blankets and fell immediately asleep. Sara stared at the other pirate in a bit of shock. She hadn't even heard her come in. Sara bent over to make sure it was indeed Brianne, and she stood back up in with a roll of her eyes as she realized how drunk the other girl was. So that's how she'd watched Sparrow, she'd gotten drunk with him.

Sara left the room in annoyance, untied the Pearl from the dock, and hoisted the gangplank by herself. She was used to hard labor, she'd done it before. Then, after finely adjusting the sails to catch the breeze that was blowing through Tortuga, she guided the ship carefully out of the harbor and to a cliff just a mile or so off shore, where she anchored the vessel, grabbed a blanket out of Jack's closet, and went to sleep on the floor. For the first time in months, Sara Kendal went to sleep with a smile on her face.

A/N: Hmm, she's got Jack's ship, but what will Jack do next? Anyway, you all know what to do, REVIEW!


	4. Ch 3: Corsets

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Hey, wait! There's a banana peel in the street! picks it up Hey, look at that! I own a banana peel. Ew . . . . shudders

Stealing His Ship

Chapter Three: Corsets

Brianne felt someone watching her. She opened her eyes, and sat up. It was Kendal again. "Stop bloody doin' that, would ye?" she protested as she got out of bed and opened one of the curtains, and the window behind it.

"Oh, no hangover then?" the pirate lass retorted with amusement.

"No, I don't have a damn hangover, thank ye. I didn't drink that much, but believe me, bein' with that bloke Sparrow can be pretty exhaustin'."

Sara gave her a look. "Exhausting, eh?" she said, grinning and raising her eyebrows.

"Not like that! For the last time, get yer mind out of the bloody gutter!!" Brianne exclaimed. She glanced at the bed, noticing that the corner of the sheet had come undone. She pulled the sheet off, and noticed there was still another one underneath.

"Welcome to my world," Sara muttered.

Brianne pulled yet another off, and found . . . a pink corset. "Bloody 'ell!" She turned to Kendal. "This wouldn't be yers, would it?"

"No of course it isn't mine!!"

Then Brianne finally put two and two together. "Ew! Oh, that is disgusting! I can't believe I slept there! Ew!" She reached under a corner of the mattress, and pulled up no less than the corners of sixteen more sheets. She threw the corner onto the middle of the bed, and then proceeded to do that with the other three corners. Finally she picked up the ball of sheets, with the corset in the middle, of course, and went outside the captain's quarters, to the railing on the deck. She threw the ball of sheets overboard, muttering, "Good riddance." There was no way that she would reuse those sheets; no amount of washing would get those clean.

She returned to the cabin to find Sara staring at the bed. Brianne looked, and saw that the one huge bed was actually two smaller beds that had been pushed together. "Well, that's interestin'." There was a pause, and then Brianne flew herself onto one of the beds. "This one's mine!" she called. It was the one closest to the window.

"You know, I really don't think you should have that one. With the amount of hangovers you undoubtedly are bound to have, wouldn't the sun be a bit on the bright side?" Sara thought for a second. "Although, now that I think of it, maybe you should have the one closest to the window. That way you can puke out the window, and not on me."

"Bloody 'ell, woman, what's with you and me havin' hangovers? And I can hold me rum, thank ye."

Sara muttered, "Fine," and started pushing her bed to the opposite side of the room, clearly the farthest possible from Brianne. Brianne shrugged, and went outside.

As she stepped out the door she was hit by a strong wind that nearly sent her bandana flying off. She quickly retied the long piece of cloth tightly around her dark brown hair, making sure that it would stay secure.

She looked around this time; last time she had been here she was so disgusted by the sheets she hadn't looked around at all, and last night she had been too tired, besides the fact that it was pitch black. Her eye caught the helm, and she grinned. _How long has it been since I've touched one of those?_ she thought to herself. She walked over to it and wrapped her hands around the beautiful wood, closing her eyes in remembrance. Brianne took a deep breathe of the salty air, and was completely enjoying herself until she heard a voice break through the peace.

"What are you _doing_?" Brianne quickly took her hands off of the helm, her eyes snapping open. Sara was in front of her, right in front of the helm.

"Nothin'."

"Sure didn't look like nothing." Her eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't be messing with the helm anyways. That's my job."

"Oh, yer job, is it? I thought the idea was that we were stealin' this ship _together_. Ye never mentioned that ye just wanted me along to do all the dirty work, while ye get to play captain."

"Dirty work?" Kendal raised her eyebrows.

"Watchin' that bloke. Not as easy as it looks. While, of course, all ye have to do is conk two men over the head while they're just waitin' for a good time. Not exactly what I'd call hard work."

"Oh, and watching Sparrow was hard work? Please. All you have to do is keep ordering more rum, and make sure there's a prostitute on his lap. He's happy and completely content."

It was Brianne's turn to narrow her eyes. "Fine, since yer the bloody captain, why don't ye get the ship ready to go, bein' that we have a pretty fair wind and we definitely need to get away from this bloody rock and Sparrow. I'll go and . . . I don't know . . . make somethin' to eat, I guess," she retorted, shrugging and putting her hands in the air. "Have fun now." Of course that thought was absurd, Brianne hadn't cooked anything since . . . well, never, really. She was born a noble, and lived in Europe for fifteen years until she left to begin her life as a pirate. She lived with her mother; her father was a pirate, who disguised himself as being a merchant. In that aspect she was similar to William Turner, who Jack had told her and Sara about, and who had helped Sparrow get the Black Pearl back. Although Brianne did know that her father was a pirate, and William, whose father was Bootstrap Bill, had no idea until he met Sparrow. Since she had become a pirate she hadn't worked in the galley, because basically everything she tried to cook turned into a lump of charcoal. Yes, it was that bad.

Brianne turned on her heel and went below. It took her only two attempts to find the galley, and she went into the kitchen. _Bloody Kendal_, she thought angrily as she searched for something edible. She was content with an apple for now. As she ate it, she wandered around, and found herself in one of the holds.

She opened a chest, finding it full of umbrellas, dresses, and . . . corsets. "Ah, what fun," Brianne muttered sarcastically. She dug into another box, and found petticoats, and a few lacy long nightgowns. She looked back to the door to make sure Sara wasn't near, listened for a few moments, and then stuffed a few of them in a canvas bag that was lying on the floor. The bag had a drawstring, which she quickly pulled shut.

Brianne had a weird thing about nightgowns. As much as she loved wearing men's clothing most of the time, she still loved wearing nightgowns to bed. Besides being a little feminine (all right, a lot feminine), they were also extremely comfortable.

As she checked the rest of the chests, she found that they mostly contained similar items: dresses, petticoats, and the sort. There was one full of books. Brianne looked though them, and found one of her favorites: William Shakespeare's _The Tempest_. Taking both of these, she went back out to the deck. She put them both underneath her bed, and went up into the crow's nest to keep lookout, completely ignoring Sara.

"You think you could help a _little_? She called up, annoyance clearly displayed in her voice.

"No, _captain_, I don't think so. Looks like ye've got it all taken care of. I'm keeping the lookout, thank ye" Brianne heard the lass huff, and her footsteps went towards the lee side of the ship.

* * *

Brianne watched as the sun went down, the sunset seeming to almost explode in hues of reds, purples, and blues. She sighed as she saw the other pirate lass come down from the crow's nest. They had switched a few hours after noon, but neither of them had said a word. Sara had just come up, sat down, and raised her eyebrows, her eyes conveying the message, "Well, are ya going down there or not?"

With this thought still swimming around inside her brain, she went down from the crow's nest where she had resided all day, back to the galley to gather something to eat. Earlier, around noon, Brianne supposed, Sara had handed her some food without saying a word. Once she had finished the misfit dinner she went back up, deciding that now was as good a time as any to go to bed.

She slipped into the room quietly, thinking that Sara might be asleep already. However, she wasn't even in the room. Brianne briefly wondered where she might be, and then decided that it didn't really matter, she would be back eventually. She opened the canvas bag and pulled out The Tempest, along with one of her nightgowns. _I am a peculiar pirate indeed_, she thought. She had noticed that when she thought something, the words tended to come out rather proper, why this was, she had no clue. Probably just another side effect of being born wealthy, no matter what you do to try and change, something just still stays there.

She had settled down into the bed she had made a while earlier that day, and began reading, when Sara came through the door, which closed quite loudly.

"Be a bi' louder, would ye?" Brianne asked sarcastically. Sara turned  
around cockily and slammed the door again, the noise reverberating off  
the walls. "Yeah, thank ye," Brianne said sarcastically.  
Sara eyed Brianne's nightgown oddly.

"Don' ask," Brianne mentioned.

She looked at the book. "Shakespeare's Tempest? Wow, who knew you had it in you? I didn't know you could read, let alone comprehend the big words of William Shakespeare. Mighty strange how the world turns."

Brianne abruptly looked up from her book. "You know what your problem is? You judge people entirely too quickly. Here it is, and I've known you for a total of two and a half days. And because on one," she held up a finger," of those nights I had earlier had a very hard day, needed a break from life, and got a bit drunk, you think that I'm completely uneducated, and that every night of mine is like that. Well, I'll tell you something. You're wrong. And until you can get over this problem, you're always going to be rubbing someone the wrong way. You really do need to get over this 'holier than thou' attitude. Just because you don't drink does not make you superior to me." She paused for a second. "I know that I had too many drinks that night. However, you have no perception of anything that had happened to me that day, nor do I suppose you care. I'll have you notice one thing though. That night, did I end up in someone's bed? No. Did I end up lying in a puddle of my own blood out on the streets? No. So you need to realize something. There are only two real differences between you and me. You don't drink, and you don't swear. I do. Other than that, we are both women, we are both pirates, and we are both captains. You need to understand this, and stop treating me like a subordinate." 

"Crud, it was just a joke," Sara responded.

Brianne glared at Sara, her anger clearly not abated. "Okay look, the truth is I have a lot of things in my past that make me  
scared of drunks, okay? And when I get scared, I try to convince myself  
that I'm not vulnerable, and that usually means lashing out and attacking the person who makes me nervous. I don't trust easily, I don't care about people easily, at least not often, and I never stick around long  
enough to know how I affect people." Sara remarked. 

Brianne looked at her for a few moments, going over what she had said. She sighed. "Okay, I see where you're coming from. However, you still need to stop trying to judge me so quickly. You don't know me, and you don't know anything about my life. Until you do, you really need to chill, okay?"

Sara looked away for a moment, then briefly looked back toward Brianne as she nodded, quickly leaving the room right after.

Brianne sighed. The lass was completely confusing to her, but she had met people similar to Sara before, only usually they were worse. People who had been hurt, and so they built a shield around themselves, not getting close to anyone, and making sarcastic remarks to cover it up. Yes, Brianne had met the type, and she had been the type at one point in her life.

She turned back to the Tempest, and continued reading for a while until she noticed that her eyelids were drooping and she had stopped actually reading a few minutes ago. She blew out the oil lamp and lay down. Sara still hadn't come back yet.

It took Brianne a while to get to sleep, but the pirate lass at last drifted off to a deep sleep until . . .

_**BANG!**_ Brianne heard the door bang open loudly, and she sat straight up in bed, the top part of the blanket falling to her waist. She swore harshly as the moonlight revealed a rather angry looking Jack Sparrow.

"Ugh, Brianne, I realize you were a bit angry about me slammin' the door, but please stop the bloody racket . . ." Sara muttered, turning over in her sleep. Evidently she had come in some time after Brianne had fallen asleep.

Jack spoke. "Ah, so ye helped th' lass steal me ship, did ye?" he asked Sara. She just rolled over again, putting the pillow on top of her head.

"Oh, Sparrow, so ye think it was me who thought up the plan, do ye?" Brianne asked him. She felt like laughing, but she didn't.

"Aye, like –she-" he gestured to Sara, "could think up a plan like tha'. It was yer doin', no doubt." He paused. "By th' way, nice nightgown."

Brianne looked down, remembering it, and crossed her arms over her chest, in the chance that it might be not-so-opaque as she would like.

Sara sat up. "And why couldn't I have thought up the plan to steal your ship? Actually, how did ye get here in the first place?"

Sparrow looked at her. "You forgot one thing, mate. I'm Captain Jack

Sparrow."

Brianne narrowed her eyes. "I've heard ye sing the same tune before, and it means as little now as it did then, Jack."

"Well, actually luv, yer on _my_ ship, so it's Captain, not Jack, to you."

"This is my ship!" Sara announced. Brianne looked sharply over at her. "Well, our ship, more like, but still, it isn't yours! I've had it over 24 hours, which means it's mine. I – I mean, we – stole it fair and square."

"Ye stole somethin' fair and square? Isn't that an oxymoron?"

"Wow Jack, you actually know what an oxymoron is. And here I was, thinking you were a –complete- idiot," Sara remarked.

Jack didn't have a response to that apparently, so he changed the subject. "And wha' did ye bloody do to me bed? Wha', did ye fight over wantin' to be where I've slept so much that ye split the bed in 'alf?"

Brianne shuddered. "No, ye mangy cad! That's . . . ew! And also, the bed was actually two, and ye had about thirty sheets on it! Disgustin', really."

"Interestin'," he muttered. "Well, ye lasses best be getting' yer sleep, ye've got a lot of work t' be doin' tomorrow."

"What?" Sara asked sharply. "Who says?"

"I do," Jack answered simply.

"You and what army?"

"Well, now tha' ye mention it, the crews out on the deck, waitin' for me to give the signal tha' everythin' is all clear."

Again, Brianne swore harshly. She paused for a few moments. "Hey, Jack, ye remember, ye owe me a favor."

"Aye, I remember. What are ye wantin'?"

"The ship," she answered shortly.

"Well, how about this. The favor will be lettin' ye two live, and not throwin' ye into Davy Jones', savvy?"

Brianne just glared at him. He turned around, left the room, and shut the door. "That bloody bastard," she muttered.

"The ship's not his. It isn't. I still say we stole it fair and square," Sara declared. Brianne just ignored her. It was her fault Brianne was in this mess in the first place. She lay back down, pulling the blanket back over her shoulders, nearly falling right asleep. She didn't want to wake up. Then she'd have to deal with Jack.

* * *

Brianne heard more banging on the door. 'Goodness, please tell me that was indeed just a dream. I don't want to have to deal with that idiot again. Please, let last night have been a dream.' The banging continued, showing Brianne that it clearly wasn't. "Dammit," she muttered, climbing out of bed and opening the door. "Damn ye, Sparrow, what the hell do ye want?"

He looked at the nightgown, and again she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Actually, I wan' t' have a little chat with ye and the other lass."

Brianne went back inside, and sat on the bed. She had decided it would be best just to go along with him as best she could so she could get off this bloody ship and away from Jack as soon as she could. She went over to Sara, who for once was still asleep, and nudged her arm. She just stirred a little. Brianne shook her arm again, and this time it when flying, backhanding Brianne's face with enough force to turn her head quite painfully.

"Bloody 'ell, gel, why'd ye do that?! A simple, 'Fine, I'm getting up,' would have worked just fine! Even a 'Bloody heck! Leave me alone,' would have done better!" Brianne screamed at her. She looked at Jack, who was laughing. "What is yer damn problem Sparrow?"

He just shook his head, laughing too hard to comment.

"Aye, well if ye won' tell me wha' yer problem is –though it is perhaps a symptom of mental illness, if you were to ask me- why did ye wan' to talk to us," Brianne said. By this time Sarah had sat up in bed, still inside the blanket.

"Actually, I've go' a proposition for ye."

"Wow, proposition, that's a big word," Sara muttered, but he ignored her.

"Well bein' tha' ye two are on _my_ ship, I'm thinkin' I won't be lettin' ye just sit here until we get to some port where we can drop ye off. Yer goin' t'hafta earn yer food and quarters, same as anyone who's in me crew. Though ye won' be gettin' any of me plunder."

"Yes, well first, this is _my_ ship, _Robin_, so your proposition means nearly nothing to me," Sara stated.

Brianne looked at her, confused. "Robin?" she asked.

"Robin, Sparrow, same difference."

"This is not-" Sparrow began, but Brianne interrupted him. "I've go' a better idea, Jack," as Sparrow muttered, "Captain, it's Captain." "Ye still owe me a favor for when I picked ye off tha' bloody island ye had been marooned on. Tha' time, I let ye become par' of me crew for a while. I'm askin' the same from ye."

Jack thought that over for several moments. "Ye know, tha's not a bad idea. There is the subject of punishment for stealin' me ship, though."

"My ship," Sara said, sounding almost childish in her stubbornness.

"Ye know, I have half a mind to just lock ye in the brig. Or perhaps maroon ye, tha' would be nice. At leas' get ye out of my sight," Jack snapped.

"You're going to lock me in my own brig? That's really hysterical. I think you might be right for once, Brianne, I think he may have a mental illness."

Brianne grinned. "I'm always right, wha' can I say?"

"Corsets."

She looked at Jack, very much confused. "Corsets? Tha's what I can say?" She looked back at Sara, mouthing 'mental'.

"No, you're going to be wearing corsets. Tha's the punishment," Jack stated. He looked like he was trying very hard to grin, but with little luck.

Brianne visibly paled. "No, Jack, I don't think so. Sara couldn't get me into a corset, and I very highly doubt that you will be able to. I honestly don't see it coming. Oh, no, I think not."

"You're not getting me into a bloody corset, Pigeon," Sara declared.

"Aye, I am. And it's no' pigeon, it's Sparrow. Actually come t'think of it it's Captain Sparrow."

"I'm not calling you captain until you call me captain." She paused. "Back to your first statement. You and what army?" Sara raised her eyebrows.

Jack grinned. "Well, th' crew volunteered, Kendal."

Brianne looked at Jack. "Fine, I'll pu' it on meself. No way am I having ye and the crew puttin' it on _me_."

He answered, "Aye, but the thing abou' corsets is ye can have quite a hard time of puttin' them on all by yer onesies. So who do ye wan' t'help, me or Kendal?"

She replied instantly, "Sara. No' ye. Never ye." She figured he might as well know that the other night she was drunk, and she wanted nothing to do with him still.

"Well ye were a little bi' more friendly nigh' before las', but tha's fine." He turned to Sara, grinning. "Ye goin' to put it on, or are we goin' to have to force ye?"

"You'll never take me alive!" Sara proclaimed dramatically, and Brianne snorted.

"I'll take tha' as a no. Well then, here's Brianne's, I'll save the pink one for ye, luv." He opened a drawer and pulled out a cream colored one, then left the room.

Brianne turned to Sara. "He just keeps those lying around in bloody drawers?" She shuddered. She looked down at the corset, then at her nightgown, and her clothes lying on a chair next to her bed. There was no way she was going to be wearing a dress right along with a corset, talk about utter shame. But she wasn't going to wear it over her shirt, and there was no way she was going to bloody _chafe. _Then she spotted one of the knives that she kept in her boot. Aha. After pulling on her breeches under the nightgown, she started to cut the material at her waist. Sara had watched all of this with doubt written on her face, still sitting in bed with the blanket wrapped around her. "Get ou' of bed and help me put this cursed thing on!"

Several moments later . . .

"Ow! Why does it have to be so bloody tight?" Brianne was standing up, and Sara had her foot on Brianne's back, pulling the strings of the corset as tight as humanly possible.

"Paybacks are wonderful, aren't they, Macki," Brianne heard from behind her.

"But that one had to be tight for a reason, this is just plainly inhumane!"

Sara didn't answer, and tied the strings. "There."

Brianne looked down. "Sheer willpower, I swear. Luckily I'm wearing a shirt over this bloody device." She opened one of the drawers, pulling out one of Jack's shirts. No use in wearing a shirt that _looked_ like a corset _over_ a corset. They heard the door open, and turned around.

Brianne walked over to him, glaring. "I hope yer bloody happy."

"Oh, I am, darlin', I am." That stupid grin was back on his face.

"And wha' is it that I'm to be doin' today?" Brianne asked, still glaring.

"Well if I'm rememberin' right, the first one I was given by ye was swabbin' the deck. But one, I'm not ye, and two, I'm thinkin' of leavin' that particular job for Sara here. However I do believe we need some help in the galley.

"I don't cook. At all. Unless what ye really desire to eat more than anythin' is lumps of coal. Then I might be able to cook."

"Oh, I wasn't thinkin' of cookin'. More along the lines of dishes. The crew's just finished eatin' breakfast."

"Fine."

* * *

After several sinkful's of dishes, mopping the galley, and basically all other domestic jobs Jack could think of, Brianne finally was out on the deck, getting some fresh air. Earlier she had met the cook, who was called 'Wool', for what reason, Brianne didn't really know. However, they had gotten on quite well. Wool was a very large, burly man somewhere in his mid-forties, with a tawny beard and no hair at all on top of his head.

Brianne walked over to Sara, who was sitting down with her arms folded, looking quite unhappy. "So I see they finally got it on ye."

"What?" Sara asked.

"The corset," Brianne said, raising her eyebrows.

"What corset? I'm not wearing a corset," Sara replied stubbornly, as if pretending it wasn't there would make it actually _not_ be there.

She rolled her eyes, and then looked back at Sara, a mischievous look on her face. "Where's Jack?"

"Well, he stumbled up here, inebriated beyond all belief, and, forgetting that we had taken over the captain's quarters, fell asleep in your bed."

"Bloody bugger." Brianne paused. "Ye know, Sara, I think I'm having a thought here."

"You know, Brianne, I'm thinking that whenever one of us says 'I'm having a thought here,' it's bad luck. I really do."

"But I'm clearly reminded about what you were saying earlier about payback."

"Aye, go on." Sara looked vaguely intrigued.

"Well, actually I was thinkin' about payback _and_ corsets. How do you think dear old captain would feel about wakin' up in one?"

* * *

The next morning Brianne and Sara woke up, and Jack was still fast asleep. Last night they had put the corset on him, but they knew that that wouldn't be enough. They had to make sure the whole crew was there to see it.

After going down to the galley and bring up a large pot and two serving spoon, they went outside the doors to their room.

"Ye ready?" Brianne asked Sara. She nodded, and they started beating on the pot with the spoon, causing an extremely large amount of noise. They only continued for a couple seconds, then went around the corner, peeking their heads out.

Sparrow walked out of his room, a painful look on his face. "What's all the bloody ruckus about?" he exclaimed. The crew looked at him, and cracked up laughing. He looked down, and ripped the corset off. After scanning the crew, he asked loudly, "Where's Macki and Kendal?" One of the crew pointed to where Brianne and Sara were hiding, and the grins were wiped off of their faces.

"Uh oh."

Okay, now hit that button down there and review us! Remember, reviews = chapters!


	5. Ch 4: Do You Speak Latin?

**Chapter Four: Do you speak Latin?**

Disclaimer: Let's just say that I don't own anything, than I can't be sued.

"Kendal, Macki! Get over here!" Jack bellowed. "What are you looking at ye scallywags?!" he shouted at the rest of the crew as the grins disappeared off of their faces and then reappeared as they returned to their work.

"Ye called?" Brianne huffed. Sara couldn't stop laughing.

"So, ye think this is funny, do you?!" Jack turned on Sara.

"No, I understand that you have to take desperate measures to keep your figure. I mean, with how badly you've let it go you'll need all the help you can get," Sara answered as she smiled innocently.

Jack growled angrily and pulled out his pistol, leveling it at Sara's head. Much to his surprise, Sara had her gun out before he did.

"She beat ye Jack," Brianne pointed out.

Faster then she could say his name, Brianne found Jack's gun pointed in her direction. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared a bit in Jack's direction. "Oh, so yer goin' t'shoot me, are ye?"

"Don't temp me," Jack muttered. "Promise or not, Macki, you two gels are nothin' but trouble. The next little island we pass you two are gettin' off, savvy?"

"Yer marooning us? Well there's gratitude for ye," Brianne mumbled.

"Gratitude? You two lasses corset me and make a bloody racket whilst I'm havin' a hangover, and you expect gratitude?! Yer lucky yer not locked in the brig like the prisoners ye are!"

Sara reached behind her back and felt the map rolled up and in the small case strapped to her thigh, and grinned.

"Fine then, let me make it easier on you. I'll get off your ship right now," she stated as she walked away from Jack.

"Kendal where are you going?" Jack demanded.

"I told you, I'm getting off of your ship," she stated as she walked towards the railing of the ship, and climbed onto it. After taking a moment to balance herself, Sara turned and saluted Jack mockingly. "Good bye, Mr. Lark."

With those words, she jumped off of the ship with a swan dive. She came out of the water and started floating on her back. Most of the crew stared of the rail at her and Brianne stood by the rail laughing her head off.

"Kendal, what on earth are ye doin'?" One of the crew members shouted to her.

"I'm taking my leave at the request of your, shall I say, obtuse Captain. Besides, I'd rather drown down here then living up there any day. So, good bye gents! Good bye and good riddance!" She then started swimming away from the ship.

As she was swimming away, Sara looked up at the ship. She saw Jack's first mate, Mr. Gibbs, the older gent she had met while stealing Jack's ship, say something to Jack. She couldn't hear what Gibbs said, but she sure heard Jack's reply.

"No, I am not goin' after her! If she wants to commit suicide and feed herself to the sharks then good riddance! At least I don't have to deal wit' her anymore. No, straighten those sails and hoist the anchor. We're leaving," he shouted as he walked back up to the wheel.

"Yer an idiot, jus' so ye know, Kendal," Brianne shouted down to her.

"Yep!" Sara called back.

"Gibbs, what are ye doin'?" Jack shouted.

"I'll be right back, cap'n. I can't leave 'er to die," the man announced.

"Ye bring her back here and she's yer responsibility, Gibbs," Jack warned.

Sara stopped floating on the water and looked back at the ship. To her amazement, that old Mr. Gibbs was lowering himself in a lifeboat to go get her. She was so shocked that someone was coming after her that she simply treaded water until Gibbs was right next to her.

"Climb on in miss Sara. Wouldn't want ye drownin' out here now would we?"

He reached out his hand for her to take. She gave him a strange look. She hesitantly took his hand and pulled herself into the boat.

"Why not? I'm a bloody annoyance. Besides, I heard you saying that women on a ship were bad luck, now your bringing me back?"

"Well, it's bad luck to have a woman a'board, aye, but it's even worse luck to let one die," he answered as he rowed the boat back towards the Pearl.

To Sara's surprise, Jack hadn't sailed off without her and Gibbs. He did look quite annoyed at Gibbs, however. Sara climbed the rope that the ship's other female pirate, Annamaria, had lowered. She landed on the deck with a giant 'slop' as water poured from her clothes and hair into puddles on the deck.

"I hope ye know that you an' Gibbs are swabbin the deck later to get that brine off o' the wood!" Jack called. Sara rolled her eyes and looked around at everyone. Brianne was sitting down with one of the men, and it looked like she was about to start a game of chess. She immediately found that she was surprisingly quite grateful for the corset she had on. Many men were watching her, and if she hadn't been wearing that blast corset then Jack's white shirt that she was wearing would have left little to the imagination when wet like it was. She immediately got sick of the looks and occasional whistles she received and stomped into the Captain's quarters.

"Hey, tha's my room, no' yers!" Jack shouted down at her. She paid no attention to him as she shut and locked Jack's doors, thankful that she had access to Jack's room key and he didn't.

_The night hung across the world like a thick blanket, suffocating all those beneath it. Sara Kendal paced the deck of the _Rising Storm_, waiting for John to come back. He'd never been away this late at night before. The slight breeze rolling in from the ocean made her hair fly around her head, the blonde locks only held back by her blue headscarf. The breeze did nothing to calm her anxiety, however._

_Finally, out of the distance, a man staggered up the gangway and onto the ship. John's hair was tousled and his eyes wild. Sara ran to him and caught him just as he was about to fall. She could smell the alcohol on him as strongly as she could the brine in the sea._

"_John, what happened?" She asked. He didn't answer, simply pushed away from her and staggered back to his Captain's quarters. Sara stared after him in confusion. He had never gotten that drunk before. He had never pushed away from her like that before._

Sara tossed and turned in her sleep, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she dreamed. Brianne sat up from her bed and watched her friend gasp for breath, sweat rolling along her hair line and down her neck. What kind of nightmares would induce such a reaction from someone like Sara?

"_Where's the money, Sara!" John demanded, his body trembling with anger, his dark hair swaying and his brown eyes ablaze with fury._

"_I didn't take it, you gambled it away. I swear I didn't take it." She backed up against the wall of his room, her hand fumbling for the doorknob as he shouted at her. Ever since he had started gambling and drinking, yelling at Sara had seemed to become his favorite pass time._

"_You thieven wretch! I took you in when no one else would, let ye stay on my ship for three years and this is how you repay me, by stealing my money when I'm not looking!?"_

"_I told you, it wasn't me! You lost it while gambling. You're drunk, John, go to sleep and we can talk in the morning."_

"_Gambling, that's what you blame all my problems on! Gambling and drinking, well it's you who brought me to it!" He pointed an accusing finger at Sara and began pacing his room. "You took that money to get revenge on me about your ring."_

"_I did no such thing. John, I forgave you for that. You'll marry me when you feel ready."_

"_Then what did you take it for, hmm?!"_

"_I told you, I didn't take it!" Sara screamed._

_Without warning, John flew around and back handed her hard across the face. She stumbled sideways a bit and clenched her stinging cheek. He had never hit her before. The shock at what had happened hit her like a giant wave. What had changed? She loved this man, he had been her best friend. Now, well, now everything had changed._

"_Don't talk to me like that! Tell me where it is!"_

"_I swear to you, John, I didn't take it!" He hit her again._

"_Sara!"_

"_No, I didn't do it," she cried._

"_Sara!"_

"_No!"_

"Sara!" Brianne shouted as she shook Sara's shoulders. Sara sat up in her bed, her hand still clenching her cheek. She gasped for breath as she looked around the room. The Black Pearl's solid walls came into view and her racing heart began to slow. She remembered how Jack had calmed down and had taken back his vow to maroon them without actually saying anything. At least he had before Brianne and her had locked him out of his room so they could sleep on his bed. "Sara, what's wrong?"

Sara looked at Brianne and was a bit surprised to see a bit of concern in the other Pirate's face.

"A nightmare, nothing but a nightmare," Sara answered.

"Well ye might want to get a grip on those nightmares. Ye were screaming something awful, and then ye started talking and shouted that ye didn't take it. What were you dreaming, anyhow? I hate to break it to you, but you did steal the Pearl."

"It was just a nightmare, nothing more, nothing less. It doesn't mean anything."

"If yer sure. Try to get some real sleep. I can't sleep with you hollering like that." Sara smiled weakly, more for her sake then Brianne's, and laid back down on her pillow.

As she did, she felt the map rest against her skin, the paper hidden against her stomach. Her smile grew a bit bolder as she thought of what the map led to. She had grown so much since John she was amazed she even dreamt about him anymore. She wasn't a helpless little deck hand anymore. No, she was a true pirate lass on her next big adventure, and if John put even so much as a finger back into her life, she'd blow it off with her pistol. At least that's what she told herself to ease her mind.

"So, how's miss Kendal doin' this mornin'? Watchin' that island over there? That's Port Royal, the island we're headin' towards," Jack stated as he leaned against the railing next to where Sara was staring at the ocean. He was eating an apple and watching her annoyingly. He was trying to get on her nerves, and it was working.

"Go away," Sara retorted.

"Now that's not very polite. Ye shouldn't snap at people just because ye had a bad night," Jack remarked.

"I didn't have a bad night, though I suspect you did, being that you slept in the crow's nest all night," Sara stated.

"No, I suppose yer right. After all that swimmin' ye did yesterday I'm sure you slept well," he commented.

"Yes, well, if it weren't for your mister Gibbs then I would be on some island waiting for some rum runners to get me back to civilization, not on this ship with you. It's his fault I'm still here, not mine," Sara replied.

"Now don't be blaming anything on Gibbs, its yer fault that he went after ye anyway."

"What do you mean? I didn't ask him to go get me. It's his own fault," Sara stated.

"No, it's yer fault. Gibbs only went after ye because ye used yer feminine wiles on him earlier. Not many women try to seduce Gibbs - "

Sara turned around and faced Jack, an angry glare in her eyes.

"Wait one minute there Mr. Parrot, I never - "

"Think before ye claim what you did and didn't do. I talked to me mate that ye left on the dock, and I talked t'Gibbs. Seems the whore who stole my ship was none other then yerself. Really, I didn't know ye had it in ya," Jack proclaimed. "Actually, I didn't know that Brianne could get ya to do that just for a ship."

"So you still won't admit that it was my idea to steal your ship?" she questioned. As Jack was opening his mouth to speak, Sara's stomach grumbled loudly.

"I'd let ye eat if ye'd work a bit, ye know. It's yer own fault Kendal."

"Captain. Captain Kendal, and don't you forget it, Jack," she retorted.

"Now if anyone's to be picky about their title it's me. And how many times more will I have to tell ye tha' it's Captain Sparrow, not Jack?"

He said the word 'Jack' in a bit of a whiny, feminine tone. Sara took her gaze off of the port and turned to look Jack directly in the eyes. Though she was shorter then him, her gaze made her seem much more impressive then her size suggested.

"I will call you a Captain when I see you acting like one. Besides, a Captain isn't a Captain without a ship, now, is he?"

"Now see here, I've got a ship, the one yer bloody standin' on!" Jack exploded.

"I'll believe that the day Cotton breaks out into song and you cut off those dreadlocks. And in reply to your first statement, I know that's Port Royal, I've been there before and it's not like we would chart a course for Port Royal and land on Haiti, now would we?"

"Well, it looks like someone's got a bee in their britches. Excuse me fer trying to have a civilized conversation." He announced. Sara snorted. Jack simply turned around, and walked back towards Brianne.

"He's never gonna stop botherin you until ye stop bothering him, lass." Gibbs came up beside her and looked out at the port as well. Unlike Jack, Sara had no problem with Gibbs. While he had saved her he had reminded her of her grandfather, the only man that ever took the time to care about her while growing up. Her parents died when she was a child, and her mother's friend didn't much want her. Only with her grandfather did she find solace.

"I'm never going to call that man a Captain. He doesn't deserve it," Sara stated.

The statement was harsh, but Gibbs could tell that there was no venom in it for him. He doubted that much of it was for Sparrow either. He had no idea who it was for, but he doubted he would want to know anyway.

"Well, I don't think he much cares if you call him Captain, to tell you the truth. I think he just wants you to listen t'him."

"I don't much care what that man wants, I don't intend to humor him in the least. I don't obey a man I can't respect."

"Oh, the Cap'n's not that bad, once ye get to know 'im. He doesn't like it to show, but he's got some honor in him, in the areas he chooses to exercise it in," Gibbs defended.

"Yeah, like when it comes to getting drunk and seducing women. Tell me, does this 'honorable' man ever stop to consider what he does when he's drunk? What about all those women he tumbles with? That man's probably got more illegitimate children then any other pirate in the Caribbean, but does that even bother him? No. Does he care when he's gambling away his life and everyone else's or when he's getting so drunk that he's willing to shoot the next person he sees, whether they're friend or foe? Yes, I see what you mean, Gibbs. Some honor."

Gibbs stared at the girl he had learned to respect and took in the momentary glimmer of pain in her eyes. She wasn't speaking of Sparrow. The pain passed in an instant, it was barely there long enough to be noticed. This lass had a hidden past, he realized, one that was still haunting her.

"Tha's not Sparrow yer speaking of. Who were ye describing?" He asked. Sara turned to him, the pain replaced with anger.

"No one. I was just stating what Jack could turn into, if he's not already there. It's hard for anyone to earn my trust, and for some, like Jack, it's near impossible."

"Well yes, with ye hatin' men and all - "

"I don't hate men." Sara interrupted. "I hate womanizing drunks. It seems like I hate men because that's all that's really out there, sparing a few, of course." Surprisingly, she flashed a quick smile at Gibbs. The older man was surprised that the pirate lass even knew how. 'She's got a fair smile,' he thought. 'She should do it more often.' "I don't hate you, and I'm pretty sure you're a man."

"Well I ought to be, you did a pretty good job o' hittin on me back in Tortuga," he laughed. Sara groaned.

"Ugh, will you people ever let that die? I just wanted the bloody ship!" she sighed in mock exasperation.

"Probably not. Ye don' have much t'do with men, so when ye do, even if it's a trick to get a ship, we can' let ye forget it."

"I'm just waitn' for the right one, Gibbs. No use in throwing my dignity out the window just because a gentleman hasn't showed up yet."

"A gentleman? Yer a pirate lass wantin' a gentleman to woo ye?"

"Why not?"

"Well, it's just not that normal. It's not bad, don' get me wrong, just unusual. So what do ye plan on doin' while yer waitin' for yer gentleman t'show up?" He inquired.

"I'm not waiting around for him, I'm living my life the way I want. If I happen to meet such a gentleman on my journeys then I'll plan my future from there. If I don' find him, well then I won't have lowered my standards. I don't need a man. Can't say the same for other women, but for me it's perfectly true."

Gibbs opened his mouth to reply, but his comment was cut off before it began by a man shouting for Jack.

"Cap'n, we're approaching the port, prepare to land?" The man asked. Sara grinned and cut Jack off.

"Yes sir, go on in, weigh anchor, and feel free to roam around, on Jack's pay o'course." She called.

"Shut yer mouth, woman!" Jack shouted in annoyance.

"Stop talking to yourself, Jack, it's proving you're crazy!" Sara announced.

"Gibbs, keep an eye on yer woman or I'll shove 'er overboard!" Jack ordered. Sara started to shout something back, but Gibbs stopped her by placing a hand over her mouth.

"Aye cap'n!" he called.

"What are you doing?" Sara demanded as she pulled Gibbs' hand away from her mouth.

"I'm savin' yer life. The cap'n would throw ye overboard."

"So? I'm close enough to land to swim to Port Royal. It wouldn't kill me."

"Yes, but the cap'n would probably wait t'throw ye overboard when we were out in the middle of the sea. Then ye would'n survive," Gibbs stated. "If ye don' respect the man, ye can still stay quiet."

"Ah, but you see, Gibbs, not everything's about respect. I need to do something to keep from being bored, and Jack's like one big target for me to torment."

"Well, I've said it once an I'll say it again, women on ships are bad luck!"

"Yep, and I'm like a black cat crossing everyone's path," Sara stated.

"That ye are, lass, that ye are."

"Where the heck are we? And why am I here anyway?" Sara demanded as Jack led Brianne and her up to an old shop near the harbor. It seemed to be old, but fairly well taken care of. Upon closer inspection the building proved to be a blacksmith's shop.

"You're here because I don't want you and Macki to try an' steal me ship again. And as to yer first question, we're here visiting an old friend of mine," Jack answered.

"An old friend? Does Jack have those?" Sara asked Brianne as they stepped in behind him. "I mean, old enemies, yes, but friends?"

Brianne replied, "Well, yeah, I suppose, bu' I'll be' ye anythin' they're old and decrepit," and stopped behind Jack as he was hugged by a man near Sara's age, late twenties, wearing coal stained work clothes and carrying a small hammer in one hand. When he pulled away from Jack, Sara could make out his light brown hair and strong facial features. He was obviously a hard worker.

"Hmm, apparently no', yummy," Brianne whispered to Sara.

"You might want to put your mind to rest, Brianne, he's taken," Sara warned.

"I didn' know ye were lookin' for a man. If ye wan' him - "

"No," Sara hissed. "Left hand, ring finger. I don't know if he's different, but it's been my experience that men don't wear wedding rings just to be wearing them." Brianne looked around Jack at the man's finger and huffed.

"Just me luck."

"It's good to see you again, Jack. Elizabeth will want to see you again," the man announced.

"Well, I wouldn' mind seein Elizabeth again, but I wouldn't want t'impose..." Jack stated. Sara snorted. He was such a rotten liar.

"No, I insist. I'm done here anyway, I'll walk you to the house."

The man turned around, and nearly ran into Brianne. In an instant the man pulled out a sword at his waist. Brianne put up her hands and backed up a step. "Okay, yeah, ye can put tha' away before ye poke an eye ou'," she mentioned.

"Uh, yeah," Jack announced as he walked around to face Will in a drunkenly comical way. "They're wit' me."

"Jack, you never said anything about guests. I'm sorry, but Elizabeth won't take well to you bringing a couple, well, lady friends with you," Will whispered as he pulled Jack aside.

"Hey wait a minute, I may be a lot of things, but I am in no way one of Jack's anything, definitely not one of his whores," Sara announced.

"Here, why don' I make introductions?" Jack volunteered.

"Oh joy," Sara muttered. Jack glared at her and then turned to Brianne.

"Will Turner, meet Brianne Macki, pistol happy Pirate Lass. Macki, Will Turner, I believe I told ye 'bout him a while back."

Will put out his hand, but Brianne just looked at it cautiously. "Just keep tha' thing away from me," she said, guesturing to the sword, not shaking his hand.

"And this here's Sara Kendal, she-demon of Hades. Sara, Will."

Sara glared at Jack, and shook Will's hand.

"Nice to meet you," she stated. Will nodded, and turned to Jack.

"Well, I suppose we'd better be going then," Will sighed, obviously wondering what his wife would say.

"Bryan, Bryan what are you doing?" A woman's voice called. Will smiled and picked up a boy as he ran out of a neat, white house nearby. A tall, lovely woman in her mid twenties stepped out of the door and leaned against the door frame. Her face was framed by soft brown curls and a warm smile upturned the corners of her lips. This woman was obviously Will's wife, Elizabeth.

"Daddy, I've been good all day," the boy announced to Will.

"You have, have you? Well, we'll have to ask your mother about that."

The lad was tall for his age. Judging by his tone and slight difficulty of forming words I would judge him to be about five years old. Judging on appearances only, I'd say he was closer to six or eve seven. He had chestnut brown hair, the same shade as his father's, and had his father's same muscular build. The boy looked very much like his father, though he appeared to have his mother's smile.

"Who's this?" Jack asked.

"You've been gone too long, Jack. This is my son, Bryan."

"Really? Well, I should have known he's yers, all ye Turner men look alike. Don't matter who yer woman is, the kid'll look like th' father. Now, how 'bout I get to know th' lad. Wouldn't want him growin up without 'is Uncle Jack, now, would we?"

"Um, well, why don't you talk to Elizabeth about that?" Will scooted around the subject.

Sara grinned, came up behind Jack, and stated, "That pretty much means 'no, we don't want our child growing up to be an inebriated, washed-up pirate, thanks.' I agree, by the way."

"No one asked you, Miss Kendal."

"Captain." She reminded him.

"I'm not calling you a Captain till you call me one."

"Never going to happen, Mr. Partridge."

"Sparrow."

"Same difference, they're both poultry, same as turkey and chicken," Sara mocked.

"Will you two shut yer pie-holes fer once?" Brianne barked.

Sara rolled her eyes, and continued on towards the whitewashed house. Will walked up to his wife, kissed her, and turned to face Jack.

"Elizabeth, look who pulled into port this morning," Will motioned towards Jack.

"Well, Mr. Sparrow it's about time you stopped by. Really, it's been too long," Elizabeth responded.

"Aye, it has," Jack remarked as he walked into the house. "Do ye happen to have anything to drink?"

"I believe there's some fruit juice in the cupboard," Elizabeth answered.

Jack chuckled in an 'Elisabeth you are so naïve' way.

"Uh, no. I meant something a little bit stronger. Something like ru - "

"There's fruit juice in the cupboard," Elisabeth interrupted with a side-ways glance at Jack. Sara grinned. She liked this woman.

"Elizabeth allow me to introduce a couple of Jack's friends. This is Brianne Macki and Sara Kendal." Elizabeth looked at both Sara and Brianne. There was caution in her eyes, yet she wore a smile on her face.

"Nice to meet you both. Won't you come inside?"

Both women caught Elisabeth's mistrust, and neither felt the need to make her even more suspicious. They followed Will and Elisabeth into their home quietly, and looked around. Everything was neat and tidy. With the exception of a few toys on the floor, everything seemed to have its place. The decorations in the house were simple, as was the furniture, but a few items here and there clearly stated that the Turners were far from penniless. Most of these hidden treasures were kept higher on the walls and shelves, obviously to discourage little hands from touching

them.

"So, what brings you back to visit, Jack? Hopefully just to say hello," Elizabeth called to Jack as he was sorting through the cupboard where Elizabeth mentioned that the juice was. He was most likely trying to find something that had fermented enough to be considered wine.

"For now. Who knows what th' future brings, aye?" Jack responded as he poured himself a glass of juice and sashayed into the sitting room where Will and Elizabeth had sat down. Brianne followed suite, for what reason Sara didn't know.

Sara poured herself a glass of orange juice and stared at the wall, only half listening to the conversation in the other room. She had to get out if she was to find a translator before they left in the morning. If she left immediately, however, Jack's annoyingly watchful eye would spot her and she didn't want to risk Jack knowing about her map. As she leaned against the counter, sipping at her drink, Bryan Turner walked up to her, a small, wooden sailing ship in his hands. He is sweet, Sara admitted to herself. Though she'd never say it out loud, she had a soft spot for children, and this boy was no exception.

"You look funny," the boy stated matter-of-factly. Sara smiled.

"That I do, lad," she responded. "Where'd you get that ship?"

"My dad made it for me. Do you want to see it?" He held the ship out for her inspection. She took it gently in her hands and looked it over.

"That's a nice ship ye got there. Do you ever sail it?" She asked.

"Sometimes when mom takes me to the beach. I have other toys too; do you want to see them?" He looked up at her excitedly. He obviously didn't meet new people often. Sara looked around nervously. She wanted to leave, but that child had the biggest eyes she had ever seen, and he was so excited...

"All right, but just for a moment." The child smiled, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the small hallway behind the kitchen that led to the rooms. He opened his door, revealing his room. She would play with this child just for a bit, and then she would leave.

"AAAAHHHHH!!!!" The child shrieked as he ran across his room, a large smile spread across his face. Sara chased the small boy tackled him, and proceeded to tickle him mercilessly. She laughed for the first time in what felt like years.

"I got you!" she laughed. Suddenly, as she was tickling him, the child stopped laughing and started crying. "Bryan, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" She stopped tickling him and picked him up onto her lap. "Are you okay?"

The boy stopped crying, looked up at her, and grinned. He then let out a war cry that could probably have been heard miles away, and tackled Sara to the ground. She grunted as her head hit the floor, and laughed as the boy stood on her stomach with a triumphant smile.

"Good to see you're back to normal, Bryan," Sara commented.

"I'm not Bryan, I'm a doggy. Bark, bark!" the child exclaimed while he

knelt on Sara's stomach.

"You are, huh? Well, you're the strangest looking dog I've ever seen,"

she pointed out.

"Ruff!" the kid barked again right before he bent down and licked

Sara's cheek.

"Ugh, kid, it's a good thing you're cute and five years old or you'd be in a lot of pain right now," she groaned as she wiped her cheek off with her sleeve. Bryan grinned proudly at her and licked her opposite cheek. As he was mid-lick, the door flew open and a concerned looking Elizabeth ran into the room.

"Oh, I heard a crash. Hmm, I see that my son has turned into a dog again. I'm afraid when Will took him to see my old neighbor's hunting dogs it struck his fancy to be one," she chuckled.

As Elisabeth was talking, Brianne and Jack looked over her shoulders and immediately grinned.

"It seems that the way to get near Sara is to put on a diaper and act like a dog," Jack commented.

"Then what's been your problem?" Brianne asked.

"I do not wear diapers!" Bryan stated.

"Tell him, kid," Brianne commented. Bryan huffed, walked over to Jack, and kicked him in the shin.

"Ow!" Jack growled. Elizabeth picked up her son around the middle, hoping to keep him away from the Pirate Captain who'd offended him.

"I'm sorry, Jack, he's just so rowdy sometimes," Elizabeth sighed.

"Hey, if the kid likes kicking Jack, maybe we could use him on the ship," Sara stated as she stood up and wiped her face for a second time with her sleeve.

"I take it she's not a fan of yours Jack?" Will asked.

"Nope," Jack answered.

"Good bye, Bryan, it was nice getting to know you," Sara stated as she got down on one knee so she could look Bryan in the eye from his perch beneath his mother's arm. "Maybe we could play again later."

"Yeah, maybe," the boy sighed in annoyance.

Sara smiled, and then stood up and walked out of the room.

"And where are ye going?" Jack asked.

"I have some business in town," she answered.

"Well don't be late or we'll sail without ye. On second thought, take all the time in the world, ye aren't needed any time soon," he commented.

Sara turned around and gave him an innocent smile.

"Oh don't worry, I couldn't stay away from the sea for too long, I'll be back before you have time to get yerself properly drunk," she stated and then walked out of the Turner house.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you here," the scholar announced from behind his desk.

"Why not?" Sara asked as she snatched the paper back from the man. She had taken the time to stop and copy down the writing from the map onto a piece of paper in an attempt to keep the map itself a secret. "You're a scholar, you can read Latin, you said so yourself!"

"I do not need to explain myself to a pirate like yourself. Be grateful that I have not called the authorities on you. Now leave my shop at once," he ordered. Sara glared at him, turned around, and stomped out of the building.

That was the last man who made any claim to speak Latin in Port Royale. Every scholar and antique dealer who made the claim either threw her out by her appearance or turned out to be fakes. She had been out for hours, and she had no more knowledge on what the paper said then she had before. She grunted in annoyance and headed towards Will's blacksmith shop. She needed a few of her knives sharpened and a break from searching for someone with a proper knowledge of Latin would do her a lot of good as well.

"Hello, miss Kendal, what can I do for you?" Will asked as Sara walked into his shop. He wiped his soot-stained hands on a rag he kept with him, and walked towards the door where Sara stood.

"I was wondering how much you charge to sharpen knives. I have these three here," she pulled out three of her best fighting knives, "and they're getting a bit dull."

Will took the knives and examined them a bit.

"These are nice. Of course I can sharpen them. As for the matter of payment, consider it a gift for helping with my son earlier. He's a good boy, but he's a bit rambunctious at times. Elizabeth and I appreciate it when someone preoccupies him for a while."

"Oh, no, he's not so bad. To tell the truth I appreciated it as much as you did. You don't see children much as a pirate, let alone get time to play with them," Sara stated.

"Well not many pirates are interested in spending time with children," Will announced as he took her knives and began running them over a spinning whetstone.

"I'm odd in many ways, Mister Turner, and this is simply another bit of evidence to prove it," she commented.

"Might I ask you a personal question, Miss Kendal?" Will asked. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not sure you could make me feel uncomfortable by asking a question, but go on," she responded.

"I was wondering if you have children of your own. You get on so well with Bryan, and your mothering instincts are somewhat apparent when you're around little ones," he questioned.

Sara stood in silence for a moment, memories of a conversation held long ago playing throughout her mind.

"_Once we're married, we'll have as many children as you want. One, five, ten, a hundred, it doesn't matter," he had told me._

"_Oh I know it won't be that many. Maybe two or three. All I know is I want more then one," she had commented in return._

She had been so close to having the family she had always wanted. So close.....

"At one time I thought about having kids, but no, I don't have any of my own," she answered.

"I understand. I was simply curious," he remarked as he turned back around and handed her the freshly sharpened knives. She inspected them carefully and smiled.

"Thank you, that's just perfect," she commented. He nodded with a smile.

"A craftsman is always glad to know his work is appreciated," he stated. Sara nodded.

"Well, thank you. I'll see you later when you come home," she sighed in annoyance as she thought of returning to the streets to find anyone who spoke Latin.

"I don't mean to pry, but are you all right?"

"Yeah, I just need to find someone," she responded.

"Who?" He questioned.

"Anyone who can speak Latin," Sara answered. "I've asked all around this town of yours and no one can help me."

"Did you ask Elizabeth?" he asked.

"No, does she speak Latin?" Sara asked.

"Well I don't know, I've never asked, but I do know that she's the daughter of a governor and all of the rich English people are taught Latin." Sara smiled as the realization that he was right dawned on her. Only rich people and scientists knew Latin, she had thought it before, now it was proving true.

"Have you seen Elizabeth?" Sara asked Brianne as she walked back into the Turner house.

"I dunno. I think she was putting Bryan t'sleep a bit ago," Brianne answered from the sitting room where he was lounging in one of the larger chairs. "What'd ya buy?"

Sara remembered the packages she was holding and threw one of them at Brianne's feet. She had made one last stop before returning to find Elizabeth. Brianne looked down at the package oddly.

"It's for you. I saw it and thought you might like it," Sara shrugged. She'd never say it out loud, but she still felt a bit badly about the argument they'd had before Jack had returned to the Black Pearl.

"And you would give me a something because . . .?"

"Well I told Jack I had business in town, and I don't want to tell him what I was really doing there so I thought buying a couple things would make him less curious," she responded.

Brianne pushed aside the paper and stared at the volume entitled the "Complete Works of William Shakespeare."

"It's the only thing I could find that you might like," Sara shrugged.

"I thought you said that a stupid pirate lass couldn't understand the big words of Shakespeare," Brianne retorted.

"I suppose one couldn't, I haven't talked to a stupid pirate lass in a few years," Sara stated.

She muttered something, looking down.

"What?" Sara wondered.

"Nothing. Thanks, um, for the book . . . I-"

Sara cut her off. "Don't make it out to be something important, I got myself something too." Sara held up a copy of 'Cyrano de Bergerac' to prove her point to Brianne. "Anyway, if Jack asks, tell him that I went to get books, okay?" And then she left before Brianne could say anything.

Elizabeth crept out of Bryan's room, shutting the door quietly behind herself.

"Elizabeth," Sara whispered.

The woman turned around and beckoned Sara into further down the hall and into the kitchen. Once they were away from Bryan's room, Elizabeth sighed.

"Oh, I thought he'd never get to sleep. He's my son, and I love him, but it takes forever to get him to sleep," she announced. "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Do you speak Latin?" Sara asked.

"A little, I was taught as a child, why?"

"I speak Latin!" Brianne announced from the sitting room where she was looking through her new book. As quickly as she said it, she seemed to forget it, and she was again absorbed into her stories. Sara looked around the corner to where Brianne was sitting, and pulled Elizabeth further into the house.

"I need someone to translate this," Sara pulled out the piece of paper with the writing on it, "but it has to be kept a secret."

"A secret? What's it for?" Elizabeth asked.

"Nothing important, I was just wondering," Sara responded.

Elizabeth sighed, looked Sara in the eye, and then took the paper from her. She sat down in a nearby chair, and looked at the words. Sara got down on one knee beside her and looked over the woman's shoulder.

"Well this here is just some notes. It seems a fellow named Lucius from Rome was looking for a great treasure up near Ireland."

"Notes? Like someone jotting down facts and ideas?" Sara questioned.

"Yes. Most of it seems to be referring to something else, not much of it makes sense," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Referring to what?"

"I don't know. I do know that this bit here," she pointed to a piece of writing that was at the bottom of the map, "isn't Latin. I think it's Gaelic, but I could be wrong."

"Gaelic? Well, I suppose that would make sense if this Lucius fellow is talking about Ireland." Great, Sara thought, another language I have to hunt someone down for.

"If you want, I can write down the translation of what I can understand," Elizabeth offered.

"That would be great. But please remember to keep this a secret. Don't tell anyone, not even Will."

"But I don't keep secrets from Will," Elizabeth argued.

"Please? It's nothing dangerous, simply secret," Sara pleaded. Elizabeth sighed.

"I won't tell him unless he asks," Elizabeth compromised.

"Okay, but please, if you must tell him, make sure he tells no one else." Elizabeth nodded.

"All right, I'll get this back to you later."

"Thank you, Elizabeth."

_"A great nose indicates a great man. Genial, courteous, intellectual, feral, courageous." _The familiar lines of Cyrano's speech came back to Sara as she sat in the sitting room of Will and Elizabeth's house and read her book by lamplight. Rostand's familiar characters greeted her like a happy memory. The adventures of the courageous, eloquent, and long-nosed Cyrano, the beautiful and strong-willed Roxanne, and the handsome yet lyrically-challenged Christian had put her to sleep many nights while growing up. Her grandfather had given her the book as a child and would read it to her, acting out the various characters by changing his voice, every night while she lived with him. They were the only truly happy memories of her childhood.

It was late at night, everyone had gone to sleep, yet Sara was still absorbed in her story. As she continued reading, she heard a rustle outside of the window. She ignored the sound, but it persisted. She finally put her book down, and looked out the window. A shadowy figure stood just outside the yard, seeming to stare at the window.

Sara stared out the window for a moment and watched the figure. It moved a bit, but it didn't leave. She gently laid her book down, stretched a bit, and walked slowly out of the room, turning the lantern off as she went. After she was out of view of the window, she pulled out her pistol and snuck out the back door.

Just as she had thought, the figure was still standing by the fence, staring at the window. She silently crept behind a bush near the side of the house and took a closer look at the stranger. She couldn't make out any of the person's features, but she could tell that it was a man, only a bit taller then her, with a bit of a beard and a bandanna on his head. He was a pirate, she could tell.

Once her suspicions were proved correct, Sara raced out from behind the bushes, came up behind the man, and held her gun to the side of his head.

"All right, who are you, and why are you staring at that house?" she demanded.

"Don't shoot the messenger, miss Sara, ye may regret it," a rough yet gentle voice begged.

"Messenger?" Sara questioned. "Well, messenger, you better deliver before I do something rash." The stranger's voice was familiar, but she wasn't about to let this man go simply because he sounded familiar.

"'_I shall no more to sea, to sea, here shall I die ashore_,' at least that's how Shakespeare put it," the man stated. Suddenly a thought went off in Sara's mind, and she knew who this strangely familiar voice belonged to.

"Sampson? Sampson is that you?" she moved her pistol, and walked around to face the intruder. Just as she had thought, Sampson's familiar face came into view. He was older then she remembered him, but then again, it had been six years.

"Good to see ya again, miss Sara, though I never thought I'd see the day when you'd wield a pistol like yer doin'. The last time I saw ya you were just learning to wield a sword," he commented as Sara took the pistol away from his head.

"Yes, well, the last time you saw me I was bleeding, had broken ribs, a broken wrist, a broken collar bone, and I could barely walk straight. That tends to change a person," Sara stated. "So what brings you to Port Royal, or better yet, why did you come to see me after so many years?"

"I had to come to warn ye, Sara. I was sent here to keep an eye on you. I wasn't supposed to let you see me, but I couldn't let him get you. You have to leave now," Sampson warned.

"He? Who are you talking about?" Sara asked.

"John. He's coming back for you. He says you've got something he wants," Sampson stated.

Sara felt her face go pale and her pistol hand start shaking. _Stop it_, she ordered herself. She put her pistol slowly back into her sash to keep her hands busy.

"If John wants to come back to see me then he better be prepared to dodge bullets, because I'm not going anywhere with him," Sara stated.

"I'm afraid if he finds you, you won't have a choice. Sara, he's gone mad, even more so then when you left. He's willing to not only kill you, but kill everyone around you for whatever it is you've got of his."

"I don't have anything of his. I've put John in my past and haven't had anything to do with him since."

"Well he sure thinks you have something of his. Sara, you need to leave, now. If not for yourself then for your new friends. Even these Turner people. Anyone you've been in contact recently is in danger."

"What could make John go to such extreme measures?" Sara muttered to herself.

"It all has something to do with this man he met a few months ago. They got to talking and the man promised him - " Suddenly, Sampson stopped talking. He grunted a bit, and clenched his chest.

"Sampson? Sampson what's wrong?" Sara asked. Sampson gasped fr air, and then stood upright again.

"You have to get out of here now, miss Sara. You and your friends, even the Turners. He's coming. He'll be here at dawn. If he catches you, it will be your death," he responded.

"Sampson, are you sure you're all right? You look horrible. Maybe I should - "

"No," Sampson pushed her backwards and pointed at the house. "Go, now. Don't worry about me."

"Sampson, I - "

"Go! Are ye daft, Sara? Go now!"

Sara took one last look at her old friend, then turned around and ran back towards the house. Sampson had saved her life once, now it seemed he was doing it again. If he thought she was in that much danger, then she'd trust him.

"Brianne, wake up! Oh come on, Brianne, please," Sara shook her friend as she slept, earning a few groans and moans. "Please Brianne, we have to go, now!

"Huh?"

"Brianne, get up," she continued prodding the sleeping woman until she sat up. Usually Sara wasn't so desperate in her actions, but the fear of again being in John's clutches had finally hit with a vengeance, and she was practically shaking with fear.

"All right, I'm up already!" she shouted. Brianne turned towards Sara in a rage, but her anger seemed to go up in steam when she saw how pale and obviously frightened Sara was. "Kendal, you all right? Ye look like you've seen a ghost."

"Brianne, we have to wake everyone up. We're in great danger. We have to leave now," Sara explained.

"What's going on? Is the Navy coming?" Brianne asked as she climbed out of bed and looked around the room for her clothes from the day before. Normally Sara would have made a comment about Brianne's nightdress, but at that moment she didn't have the nerve.

"No, but we're in a lot of trouble. We have to leave. I need your help waking everyone up," Sara announced.

"Yeah, yeah. You better have a good explanation for waking me up, though."

"I will, but I want to tell everyone at one time. Why don't you wake up Jack, and I'll wake up Will and Elisabeth."

"No, how about YOU wake up Jack and I'll wake up Will and Elizabeth," Brianne corrected.

"Fine, fine, whatever. Just have them meet me in the sitting room."

Brianne looked at Sara oddly, no doubt wondering at Sara's obedience. She had been expecting to fight Sara about who had to wake up Jack. Sara had to be terrified. Brianne started looking for the rest of her clothes faster then she had been as Sara walked out of the room to get Jack.

"We have to get out of here. Someone's coming, someone who wants to kill all of us," Sara explained to Brianne, Jack, Will, and Elizabeth. Jack was glaring at the opposite wall, angry at being awoken, but Sara's expression had kept him from whining.

"What do you mean, kill us? What did we do?" Elizabeth asked.

"He thinks I have something of his, but I don't. He'll kill everyone who's been around me recently, just to make sure I didn't pass this object on to someone else."

"Wait a minute, who exactly are we talking about here? Who would want to kill you?" Brianne asked. "You told me you never stayed around long enough to make any real enemies."

"I didn't know he'd want to kill me! If he hasn't tried to find me for six years, I assumed he'd forgotten me," Sara exclaimed.

"Who?!" Jack shouted.

"He's just, well, an old friend. Who he is won't matter unless he catches us, however, so let's just get out of here now!"

"What about Elizabeth and I? If what you said was true, then our lives are in as much danger as yours," Will pointed out.

"You don't think I'll let ye on me ship till this storm blows over? Ye are an ignorant whelp," Jack commented.

"I believe will knew that, Jack, but I don't think we can go with you. Bryan will not be easy to take care of on a ship. He'd only cause trouble," Elizabeth stated. "And I'm not just leaving him hear with no one to watch him."

"Elizabeth, you and Will need to come with us. If you don't, it will cost you your lives, I know it will. I don't want to leave Bryan behind either, but I don't think that he will be in much danger. Is there a friend who can take care of him while you're gone? Someone who could defend him if he _is_ threatened?" Sara asked.

Elizabeth looked at Will and they seemed to mentally swap and debate an idea.

"Well, there is one person," Elizabeth sighed.

"Your father?" Will asked.

"Will, you know exactly who I'm talking about, and you know it's not my father! He can't, anyway, he's in London for a week. I'm sure James would take care of him for me," Elizabeth announced.

At her announcement, Jack coughed a bit in an attempt to cover up a laugh. It didn't turn out too well.

"James? James Norrington?" Brianne asked.

"How do you know about Commodore Norrington?" Elizabeth asked.

"Commodore? He was a lieutenant last time I met him. Are you sure he can take care of a kid?" Brianne questioned.

"I don't know, but I do know that he will do his best, and he can defend Brianne from anyone who might want to hurt him," Elizabeth explained.

"Yeah, well, I've never met this Commodore, but maybe Bryan will make him lighten up a bit. In any case, we have to leave now, so I would suggest getting Bryan to this Norrington fellow as fast as you can," Sara remarked. Will sighed, and nodded.

"I'll go with you, Will. I want to talk to James anyway," Elizabeth offered. Will nodded, and went to go get Bryan out of his bed.

"I'll go wake th' crew up. Have them ready t'sail, ye know," Jack groaned as he got up and walked out the door. 

Brianne didn't say anything, simply stared at Sara as if she was trying to figure her out.

"You're hiding something," Brianne accused.

"N-no I'm not," Sara stated.

"Yes you are, and you're going to tell me what it is someday," Brianne predicted.

Not knowing how to respond, Sara stood up, and walked away from Brianne and headed towards Jack's ship, all the while ignoring the feel of Brianne's eyes on her back the entire way.

"What is that?" Brianne asked as she pointed towards the horizon. The sun was rising and, to Sara's relief, Port Royal was nearly out of sight as the Black Pearl sailed away. Sara raised the spy-glass and looked at the dot Brianne was pointing out. From the crow's nest, where they were sitting, they could still make out the cost of Port Royal. The dot was a boat.

As she looked at the boat, a chill went up Sara's spine. He was on that ship, she knew it immediately. Brianne took the glass away from her and looked as well. A shiver went down Brianne's spine as she looked at that ship.

"Oh, something about that ship don't feel right. I'm glad we're out of there," she stated.

"Yeah, so am I," Sara stated weakly, knowing that she would have nightmares that night. Brianne looked down at her, and again gave her that knowing glare. She knew something was wrong with Sara, no matter how much she tried to hide it. She again put the glass to her eye and looked at the ship. It seemed somehow familiar, but she couldn't see it well enough to figure out where she had seen it before. Somehow, even if they had escaped that ship once, she had the feeling that they would meet again. Looking at the other lass, she could tell that she wasn't the only one.

A/N: Again I'm the only one who honors our reviewers! Well, thanks to XxXthesicknessXxX, Shimmeringtears, and Medusacurlz for their reviews of the last 2 chapters. Please review again, and it's always great to get new ones! So go on, leave a review!


	6. Ch 5 Pt 1: Don't Call Me Luv

A/N: First and foremost, sorry for the wait. Second, this is only half of the chapter. I wish there was some brilliant reason for splitting up the chapter, like the length (ha) or something, but basically it's split because I haven't written lately, and Sara figured I might as well post what I have. Wow, talk about a run-on sentence . . . .

Anywho, the second part of this chapter will be updated very very soon (possible today or tomorrow, not that I'm making any promises), so no worries.

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, Disney own everything, Bri owns nothing, blah blah blah . . . .

Chapter Five – Part One

_Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,_

_But sad mortality o'ersways their power,_

_How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,_

_Whose action is no stronger than a flower? . . ._

_O none, unless this miracle have might,_

_That in black ink my love may still shine bright._

Annoyed with the verse, Brianne turned to another page, which was part of the Twelfth Night.

_What is love? 'Tis not hereafter'_

_Present mirth hath present laughter;_

_What's to come is still unsure:_

_In delay there lies no plenty;_

_Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty!_

_Youth's a stuff will not endure._

She irritably slammed the book shut, then looked over at Sara to see if it had waken her. Sara was tossing and turning on her bed, and as Brianne got up to wake her up from her apparent nightmare, she stopped moving. Brianne looked at her face, and was almost shocked. It was white, and although she was wrapped in more than one blanket, Sara was shivering, no doubt from something other than being cold. _No one needs a nightmare like that, _Brianne thought as she shook Sara lightly.

"Sara, lass, wake up. Sara," Brianne called to her. She sat up straight in bed, nearly knocking into Brianne, who moved her face quickly away. "Lass, it was just a dream. Are ye okay?" Sara took a breath and tried to smile, acting like nothing was wrong. Her mouth wasn't quite able to form a smile.

"Yeah, fine," she answered as she lay back down, turning away from Brianne.

Brianne sighed, annoyed at Kendal's stubbornness, and put on Jack's coat over her nightgown, walking outside. It was an almost completely black night; the only light came from a sliver of a crescent moon. She leaned over the railing, looking down into the dark abyss.

"Tha's me coat, ye know. I was wonderin' where it went," came a voice right behind Brianne's right ear.

"Tha's nice," she said distractedly. Stupid Jack and his non-belief in personal space.

"Ye couldn't sleep either, then?"

She sighed again, and turned around. The moon reflected off of a bead in Jack's hair, but she couldn't see his face nearly at all. "Kendal's havin' nightmares. I dunno wha' exactly they're about, but I'm sure they have somethin' to do with tha' fellow we're runnin' from. She was tossin' and turnin' like crazy, then stopped. Her face was pale as milk, and she startin' shiverin'. I woke her up, but I couldn' get her to tell me wha' it was about." She wasn't really sure why she was telling Sparrow this.

"Tha's amazin', am I hearin' right? The almighty unfeelin' Macki is worried abou' someone?" he answered cockily.

"Unfeelin' me arse," she muttered, not sure whether Jack heard her or not. Apparently he did.

"Well, o'course, besides tha' nigh' in the tavern, where ye had yer tongue nearly down my throat."

Brianne was silent for a few second. Demurely she answered, "Jack, I was inebriated beyond comprehension. I don't even remember that night; don't anticipate that it'll ever mean anything." Of course he had to bring that up. She knew he would eventually. It was odd that he hadn't mentioned the night before this.

There was a short pause, and then Jack answered, "Ye know, yer a lot friendlier drunk."

"I'm sure I am, although bein' that I'll never do tha' again until . . . well, to pu' it plainly, _when Hell freezes over, _I don' quite think it matters." Her voice got quieter. "Tha's never happened before, where I can't remember anything, and I do things I'd never in my right mind do."

"Am I really tha' bad, Macki, that ye'd never kiss me unless ye were drunk half out of yer mind?" Brianne could faintly see the grin that danced upon Sparrow's face.

She feigned seriousness, replying, "Well, yes. Ye are that bad. I know it's hard t'face the truth, Sparrow, but ye are a terrible kisser. Honestly, I swear on me father's grave."

Jack thought for a second. "Macki, yer father's not dead."

"Um, then I swear on me honor as a pirate." They both started laughing.

After a few moments of silence Jack asked, "Wha' made ye so upset that ye wanted to drown it out with that much rum?"

Brianne was silent. _And let us _again_ not forget that Jack Sparrow has no idea of personal _anything. _Personal problems, personal thoughts, personal space . . ._

"If ye don' want t'tell me ye don' have to, luv. I was jus' wonderin'."

"Jack?"

"Aye?"

"Don' call me luv."

He answered, "No problem, luv."

"Jack," she said sternly, clearly annoyed.

He sighed dramatically. "Okay, _Brianne_."

"That's better," she answered, grinning. She sat down, her back leaning against the railing.

"Hellcat," he muttered.

A short shriek sliced through the darkness of the night. Without looking once back at Sparrow, she sprinted back to the cabin. She reached the door and abruptly stopped. Slowly and quietly she opened to door, peering in. Sara was calmly sleeping facing her way.

"Bloody lass," Brianne mumbled quietly, and softly shut the door.

* * *

Okay, you know what to do, hit that review button down there! Please!

Thanks to everyone who's reviewing, we really appreciate it! And smartie-teri, I couldn't say anything about who Jack's going to get with, you'll just have to wait and see! At this point I don't know if Jack actually deserves anyone . . . aw well, sure he does, being a sexy man beast like he is . . . he he he. grin

Reveiw!


	7. Ch 5 Pt 2: Shut Up

Chapter Five

Authors Note: So I wrote basically all of this while Sara was spending the night . . . ha ha, like we slept, not. This is how the night basically went.

Sara: No, the hat usually goes under the hair!

Brianne throws Otter Pop wrapper at Sara.

Sara: Write already, Otter . . . Pop!

Brianne throws Otter Pop wrapper at Sara again.

Brianne: Ha!

Sara: What the hemla! (I kept misspelling helm. I'd write heml, and I'd start yelling at the computer, shouting about the hemlas.)

Brianne: Gosh I want another otter pop...

It was much more hilarious in real life. Sorry, we sound like idiots now. All I have to say is that it was all root beer induced.

* * *

Part Two: Shut Up.

"Earth to Macki," Sara called. "Where'd ya go?"

"Hmm?" Brianne asked distractedly. "Oh, nothing, I was just thinkin' 'bout something."

"_Oh,_" Sara said sarcastically. "I see."

"Shut up."

Sara looked at the counter, which was to their left. "I'm going to find out what is takin' our drinks so bloody long to get over here," Sara announced.

Brianne watched her go to the counter, and argue with the barkeep for a few moments. He finally gave up and went off in search of drinks to shut Kendal up, muttering curses upon their families, no doubt. If he knew any better, he'd know Brianne had already beat him to it, at least for her family.

Sara was looking very impatient, kind of fidgeting, though Brianne doubted she knew she was doing it. Suddenly, she stopped fidgeting, as if something had grabbed her attention. Brianne saw her eyes dart to the couple beside her, and she had the look of someone who was pretending not to eavesdrop, but was really listening intently to every word. She then had a appearance of confused astonishment on her face, and she mouthed something Brianne couldn't make out. It looked like it could have been a name, but she wasn't sure. Sara ran to the door, hesitated slightly, then pushed it open and was gone.

Brianne was debating going after her when she heard a loud cheer come the table where the rest of the crew was sitting.

She looked over, and it felt like someone had knocked the wind out of her. Jack was sitting two whores draped on him. She saw him kiss the blonde's neck, and whisper something in her ear, which made the strumpet giggle. Jack looked up and said, "all right, Gibbs, how 'bout if you can beat me one more time I buy you a drink and this lovely creature, savvy?"

Brianne felt all of a sudden worse, if that was even humanly possible. She felt that if she didn't leave straight away that she would vomit or faint or both. Seeing that had actually made her feel physically ill.

Time to find Sara.

Out in the alleyway, Brianne looked around, and .saw a flash of blonde hair going around the corner to her left. She took off at a sprint to catch up, but as soon as she rounded the corner, Sara was already at the end of the street. They continued at this pace, Brianne rounding corners only to find Sara at the end of that street, and Brianne found that if you run hard and fast enough, you really can escape memories.

Finally Brianne found herself entering a graveyard, and saw Sara scanning some of the newer looking graves. Her eyes went wide as she read the inscription on one and she fell to her knees, just staring at the gray stone. Brianne saw her visibly pale, and her hands began to shake. "No. . . " she muttered.

Brianne slowed to a stop a few feet away from the lass, and examined the grave. It said, "John Christensen, Hung as a Pirate, August 2, 1757."

_Who is this? _Brianne wondered. It sounded extremely familiar, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out where she had heard it before.

If Brianne was expecting an answer, she didn't get one. After what seemed like an hour, Sara silently stood, and left, going towards the inn.

* * *

Brianne woke with a start, breathing fast as if she had been running. She knew that she had just had a nightmare, and though she had no recollection of the dream, she had a very good idea what it was. She had been trying to escape that memory all day, and knew if she went back to sleep she'd have to relive it again. That gave her good reason not to sleep.

She threw on some clothes: an oversized black shirt (she had learned very early not to wear white when there was a chance of rain), a pair of black breeches, and Jack's coat. Yes, she was in a very black mood right then. Brianne then went downstairs to the commons, which was not as heavily populated as before. There were only about twelve people, so she figured it was around three hours to dawn. She went up to the counter and got a cider, then sat in a booth in the far corner of the inn. She was sitting sideways on the booth, her legs pulled up on the seat, her knees near her chin, and she was leaning against the wall. So comfortable she could nearly fall asleep. But wasn't that what she was avoiding?

Brianne jumped when she felt an arm snake around her waist, feeling someone sitting beside her, and she away quickly while turning around to face them. As she turned, she pulled out her pistol.

"Touch me again, and I'll shoot you," she told Jack Sparrow as she held the gun to his temple.

Obviously Jack didn't hear the seriousness in her tone, because he grinned slightly, asking, "What'd I do, luv?" and pulled her to him. Ah, it wasn't that he couldn't tell she was serious. She could smell the rum very strongly on his breath. He was drunk.

Brianne pulled away, standing, while keeping her pistol aimed at Jack. "I'm dead serious, Jack Sparrow. Touch me again and I'm going to bloody kill you."

He put his hands up, level with his eyes, mockingly. "Alrigh', I'll no' touch ye." He waved his hands a bit while he said this, then stood and swaggered over to most likely find another strumpet, or a drink, or a strumpet with a drink.

Brianne put her pistol away, and had to consciously slow her breath. On second thought, as she sat back down, she pulled the pistol back out, and leaned back against the wall, waiting for dawn to come.

* * *

"_I have nothing left to bet," Brianne heard her father say. She was walking down the stairs to the main floor. Her father was in the parlor, engrossed in a game of poker. She had been coming down to get a glass of water before she went to bed._

"_Your daughter does have a large dowry," her father's opponent eluded._

"_My daughter," he muttered thoughtfully. "You had mentioned that you were interested in her several months ago. Do you still have interest in her hand?"_

_Brianne stopped abruptly, glass of water in her hand._

"_I do," the man stated simply. Brianne remembered where she had heard that voice before, and she winced. It was noble by the name of Count Francis, who happened to be in his mid-fifties._

"_Then that settles it. If you win this final hand, you will win _her_ hand in marriage."_

_Brianne inhaled sharply, and closed her eyes, hoping for her own sake that this was a nightmare. _Please, please let it be a dream,_ she pleaded. She opened her eyes as she heard the count's excited laugh, then heard her father sigh. _

"_She is yours." She heard these words, and the glass fell out of her hand, shattering on the floor. Her father had lost her in a game in poker. She was expected to marry the count. Brianne ran up the stairs as fast as humanly possible. She was halfway down the hall when she slipped, badly twisting her ankle. Ignoring the pain, she continued running until she was safely locked in her room, huddled in the corner with her legs pulled up, chin resting on her knees, arms around her legs, trying desperately to stop the tears going down her face.

* * *

_

Brianne woke suddenly. She looked up and saw Sara sitting on the table cross-legged. Her cheeks felt wet and she knew she'd been crying in her sleep. Pretending nothing had happened, she acted as though she was wiping the sleep from her eyes though she was indeed wiping the tears off her face.

"Are we leaving soon?" Brianne asked Sara. She nods, and looks down. Brianne stood, faintly noticing Sara flinching to the abrupt movement, and left. Food? Not on Brianne's priority list.

On her way to the ship she passed Sparrow, who gave her a nod that she ignored. No need to acknowledge people she wanted to shoot.

She finally reached the ship, and decided to go up to the crow's nest.

She had finally gotten comfortable up there when she saw Sara come up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"Seriously, I'm fine."

"You may have a good poker face, but you can't fool me." Brianne tried to stop from flinching at the word 'poker' but basically failed. "Anyhow, I saw you. You were crying in your sleep. Try telling me nothing's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong."

"Liar."

"So we're back to this."

"Yes. Something's wrong. Tell me what it is."

"A little forward, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"I'm not telling you what's wrong. Not that there's something wrong."

"Ha, you admitted it."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Shut up."

"No. You've got a problem. I want to know what it is. Tell me." She paused, then had a thoughtful look on her face. "Why'd you flinch when I said poker face?" She paused, noticing that as much as Brianne was trying, she flinched at the word 'poker'. "What about gambling," Sara said, overpronouncing the word 'gambling."

Brianne had a sharp intake of breath.

"Is it about your ship?"

"No."

"Really no, or just 'I'm not going to say it is because I don't want to talk about my problem'?"

"It's really no. Not about the _Dawn._"

"Well it's about gambling. And poker. What did you lose in poker?"

"Nothing anyone considered important," Brianne muttered.

"Were you playing poker? Or was it someone else?"

"I told you I'm not talking. But it wasn't me."

"Was it . . . someone in your family?"

"Leave me alone."

"I'll take that as a yes." Sara got right in Brianne's face. "Tell me."

Brianne looked away. "No. I told you, leave me alone."

"All right, I'll just go over here."

"It's not like it's bothering me," Brianne continued.

"I know."

"I don't have any problems with it."

"Yeah, I honestly don't care if you have issues or not."

"Really, I don't! It's only that my father basically gave me away through a game of cards. Not a big deal. I don't care."

"He what? Like he sold you?"

"No." Brianne sighed. "He said that his opponent could win at poker then the man could have me as his wife. There was only a forty year difference between us," she added bitterly.

Sara seemed speechless at this, and Brianne turned away. They had left the port a while ago, it seemed. She looked around, finally doing her job of being in the crow's nest. She started, seeing a ship behind them. She pulled out a spyglass, and stopped breathing. It was the _Dawn. _But no, it couldn't . . . no. She must have seen it wrong. She looked through the spyglass again. It was indeed the _Midnight Dawn. _She was trying to find the breath to yell to the rest of the crew, but couldn't find it. Instead, she quickly climbed down the ratlines, and went to the helm, where Jack was.

He looked up, surprised to see she actually had something to say to him that didn't involve a pistol. "It's the, over there," Brianne tried to say. She took a deep breath. "It's the _Midnight Dawn. _Over there." She pointed, not being able to say anything else.

The name on the gravestone suddenly came back to her. _John Christensen . . . that was _him!_ He was the one who cheated my ship away from me! But he was dead . . . Bloody hell, this is confusing._

"She's catchin' up," Jack mentioned, not sounding very thrilled about it.

"She's a fast ship," Brianne barely got out.

"We can get away from her."

She turned back to him. "No. We can't. I designed that ship. It is faster than the _Pearl._"

Jack definitely did not look happy about this.

"We need to prepare to be attacked. I doubt this is going to be a friendly visit."

"We can get away," he responded forcefully.

"No! You don't understand! We're not getting away! We need to prepare, there's nothing else we can do!"

"Brianne, ye need to calm down."

"Why do I need to calm down! I'm perfect calm, thank you!"

Jack turned to her, hands still on the helm. "Take the helm, Macki."

Brianne stared at him. "What?" she exclaimed.

Jack took one hand off the helm, and grabbed her arm, pulling her between him and the helm.

"I told you not to touch me," she muttered.

Jack didn't respond, just took her hands and placed them on the helm, then backed away.

"Honestly, lass, ye need to calm down. Just take a deep breath," Brianne heard right behind her left ear. It was rather unnerving.

Brianne finally listened to him, and made herself calm down.

* * *

Jack suddenly realized that he hadn't heard from a certain she-demon in a while. He looked around, and then his eye caught the crow's nest. Kendal was up there. He yells, "Kendal! What are ye doin' up there!"

There was no answer.

He looked up again, and noticed the direction of her gaze. It was at the _Dawn_. He thought, _Oh bloody hell, not her too . . . _

"The ship's not goin' t'eat ye and Macki, get down 'ere!"

Still no answer.

"Fine then, I'm comin' t'get ye, bloody wretch," he muttered as he climbed up the ratlines and into the crow's nest. Kendal still stood at the edge, her fingernails digging into the wood of the nest, her knuckles white. "Stupid upset she-demons putting holes in my ship. Come on, Sara, move it or I'm throwin' ye over."

Sara turned around quickly, her eyes still wide, and gasped.

"Goodness Parakeet, what are you doing up here?"

"I'm savin' yer neck, what's it look like? Get down to the main deck!"

"They're catching up to us."

"I bloody know that, which is why I'm goin' back down. I don' want t' be caught up here when th' cannons start goin' off, and unless you get yer kicks by riding out sea battles in th' crow's nest then I'd advize gettin' to th' main deck yerself," he grumbled as he climbed back out of the nest and scampered to the deck.

Sara looked over the edge cautiously, back at the approaching ship, and then followed.

"Cap'n, they're gainin' on us!" Gibbs shouted from across the ship.

"I BLOODY KNOW THAT! Will everyone quit tellin' me in a round abou' way that me ship is slow? She's hungover is all!"

"Well whatever is going on we're going to have to fight soon," Will reminded Jack as he helped the members of the crew ready the cannons.

"That's a bit of stating the obvious," Sara griped as she helped Cotton secure another cannon and load it. It seemed her fear from before was being replaced by adrenaline, whether she was consciously doing it or not.

Jack thought for a few minutes, then called to Brianne, "Macki! Turn 'er around! We're going to meet them head-on!"

Brianne looked at him questioningly, but then started to turn the helm. "All right then," she said. After several minutes they were completely turned around. "What's the plan once we're close?"

Jack answered, "We're goin' t'line up with 'em. Give 'em all we got."

"I don't want to fire on my own ship!" she shouted.

"Macki, it's no' yours anymore. It's either fire on 'yer ship,' or die! Which are ye gonna choose?" Jack shouted back.

"Do you really want my answer!"

"It's either blow holes in yer ship, or we _all_ die!"

"Why are ye bloody doin' this t'me!"

"It's not on purpose, lass. Believe me, I know the feelin'. I believe my comment was 'Stop blowing holes in my ship!'"

"Mm hmm. Don't care."

"Would you two just stop this! We're almost to them!" Sara yelled as she grabbed her pistol out of her belt.

"Oh my gosh," Elizabeth half screamed.

"What?" Jack demanded.

"There's a lot of them," Elizabeth breathed.

"Wind in the sails, wind in the sails," Cotton's parrot agreed.

"Blowin' bloody holes in me ship," Brianne muttered as she grabbed her pistol and cutlass as well as she ran down to the main deck and a few crewmembers lowered the anchor and everyone braced themselves for the fight.

The Midnight Dawn dropped anchor just after the pearl and it's many crewmembers contented themselves with intimidating the members of the Pearl for a moment.

"This is bloody stupid," Sara muttered as she aimed her pistol and shot a particularly scraggily looking man in the head.

As if her gunshot had been a signal, a sudden barage of cannons, pistols, and the clatter of running feet filled the air.

Brianne barely noticed the confusion around her, though every cannon shot made her wince, and every sound of cracking wood made her grimace in pain. She shot another man in the stomach before stepping around Gibbs as he loaded and shot his cannon. It was as she noticed the men on the Dawn preparing ropes and wood to board the Pearl that she noticed a faintly familiar face in the crowd. _That bloody man, I'm gonna kill him, _she thought angrily, and started going toward where John was, fighting through the Dawn's crewmembers that had started boarding the ship. Brianne saw Sara running in the opposite direction, and she started wondering what had happened between Kendal and that man, but then she realized that she should be wondering more about how they all were going to make it out alive.

A man swung on board in front of her and almost before he could land she pulled out her cutlass and slashed him across the chest. He screamed, and she blocked a blow to her stomach before she gave him a fatal blow to his head.

She faintly noticed that she and the rest of the crew were being basically herded towards the Captain's Quarters, despite her attempt to find John and kill him. Or at least wound him really badly, and then kill him.

Brianne kept fighting, but several minutes later she found herself actually in her room. They were all extremely crowded, the room not being made to hold that many people. Brianne glanced around, and saw Sara. She looked visibly shaken. Her face had paled beyond what Brianne thought it could, and she saw a slight tremor that shook Sara's whole body.

A particularly large pirate roughly grabbed her shoulder and pushed her against the wall, leveling a pistol against her temple. As her eyes darted around, she saw that everyone else was in the same position.

It appeared they had lost.


	8. Ch 6: Waking Nightmares

A/N: All right everyone, here's the next chapter! Sorry it's taken so long, but REVIEW!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Disney does, of course, and I don't own the references to Cyrano De Bergerac made in this story. They are the works of Edmond Rostand.

Chapter 6

**Waking Nightmares**

"Parley," Gibbs claimed a bit hesitantly as the pirates rushed into the room, pistols leveled at the heads of all the crew members.

Following Gibb's lead, everyone else claimed parley as well; everyone except Sara. She stood as far from everyone as she could, her back up against the far wall, her nails digging into the wood.

"And what about ye, lil' miss, ye want t'claim parley as well?" the pirate pointing the gun in Sara's direction sneered.

Sara didn't say anything. She wouldn't claim parley even if she could unclench her jaw to get the word past her lips. She took a deep breath, and took the time to regain her composure.

"No. Take me straight to the brig, please," she ordered. Many of the pirates turned around and looked at her as if she were crazy.

"Well, it's not our policy to take too many prisoners, maybe we should just kill ye now?" the man grinned as he tightened his finger a bit on the trigger in warning.

"Uh, I think, in this circumstance, I have the right to claim parley for her, bein' that she hasn't slept well lately and I don't think she's thinkin' quite clearly - " Brianne started to say.

"I know exactly what I'm saying, Macki. I don't want to claim parley," Sara argued back.

"Kendal, it's either claim parley or die, ye know," Brianne pointed out.

"Kendal? As in, miss Sara Kendal?" Sara's captor questioned with an evil grin on his face. Sara looked up at him questioningly. "I'm officially claimin' the right of parley for ye, miss Kendal. It would be kind o' pointless to capture this ship and kill ye bein' that ye were the one we were after."

"You can't claim the right of parley for me!" Sara exclaimed, forgetting her fear and resorting to anger. "I didn't say to kill me, just to put me in the brig!"

"Aye, and we will be puttin' ye in the brig, but I'm quite certain that the captain will want t'see ye later," the man announced.

"But I didn't claim bloody parley! I would rather you shoot me with that pistol then to see your captain, and I hope you know that I will cause nothing but trouble while I'm on that ship, so why don't you just kill me now and save yourself the headache?" Sara screamed.

"Now I won't be havin' ye wreakin' havoc, so just stand back and I won' hurt you!" the man shouted back.

"Why not!" Sara shouted, letting her anger get the best of her. She stormed up to the man, and tried to pull the gun away from him. He tried to pull it back, knowing that if he actually shot Sara, he would die. After a moment, Sara was able to wrestle the gun away from the man, and punch him between the eyes, causing him to drop like a rock. She then shot the man keeping Brianne in check, and smiled.

"Just like old times, huh?" she questioned.

"Aye," Brianne grinned as she pointed the gun at another man and shot.

With each shot, another pirate was freed. The sound, however, alerted more men who came into the room and forcefully pinned many of the crew against the wall. Sara and Brianne were quickly the only two pirates standing again. When Brianne ran out of bullets in one gun, she tossed it aside, and went to pick up another one. In the process, an enemy pirate rushed at her and pinned her face first into a wall, holding her hands behind her back. Sara continued to shoot, knowing full well that none of the men could kill her. As she was shooting a man near the door, she felt a sharp tug on her hair. Her head was pulled backwards and as she moved the gun up to shoot the offender, someone rushed at her from the side and pulled the pistol away from her and pulled her hands together.

"Now that is quite enough of that," one of the pirates, the one with her hair, told Sara. The man let go of her hair, and grabbed one of her arms as the other man grabbed her opposite one. "Now let's get this one out of here before she does something like that again."

They started to drag Sara towards the door by her arms; she fought the whole way. She dug her heels into the floor, making it harder to move her, and she pulled herself backwards, hoping that she would be able to get loose. When the men finally got tired of fighting her, they simply lifted her off of the ground and let her kick in the air at them.

"Bring the rest of them out, send them straight to the brig!" the man holding Sara's right arm shouted.

The enemy pirates turned to the rest of the crew, who walked them over towards the ship. Being that they were under the protection of parley, they couldn't resist capture.

As Sara was being led across the plank that had been laid across the railings of the ship, a wave rocked the ship, momentarily knocking Sara's captors off balance. In their moment of weakness, Sara pushed away from them and tried to dive off of the ship into the thin line of ocean between the vessels. Her attempt was stopped before she could even reach the water. Pain exploded in her head as one of the pirates regained his footing and grabbed hold of her hair to keep her from escaping. He grabbed her arm a moment later and hauled her back up and onto the _Midnight Dawn_.

"Are ye really gonna be this much trouble th' _whole_ way?" the man complained.

"I warned you," Sara grumbled.

Sara was pulled aside as the rest of the crew was led down into the brig.

"Is this her?" a new pirate inquired.

"Yep," one of Sara's captors announced. The new pirate took her chin between his thumb and index finger, and turned her head from one side to the other. Sara jerked her head away and spat in the man's face. Instead of getting angry at her, as she had expected, he simply wiped the spittle away from his eye and grinned sadistically.

"Yes, this is the one. Please place her down in the brig and I'll inform the captain of her presence," the man stated.

"But Skeet, Captain said that she was to be taken straight to him," the other man argued.

"Things change! Now take her to the brig until the Captain is ready to see her," Skeet nearly shouted. The other two men grunted in annoyed acquiescence, and started to drag Sara down into the dark confines of the ship's prison. Though many would find her crazy, Sara breathed a sigh of relief as she was thrown into a small cell with Brianne and Elizabeth. No matter how dark and foreboding the brig was, it was no comparison to being alone with John again.

"Bloody man stealin' my ship," Brianne grumbled.

Brianne had been muttering along the same vein for the last two hours. Elizabeth sat near Sara with her arm around the terrified girl's shoulders. Sara hadn't said anything since her capture. She had simply sat in the corner across from Brianne, her knees curled up to her chest, her head resting on her knees as she tried to dispel her fear.

"Sara, why won't you just tell us what's wrong?" Elizabeth whispered. Sara ignored her. She meant well, but there was no way that Sara could have explained her feelings to anyone, let alone her feelings about John.

Elizabeth's promptings were interrupted by the sound of Jack, Mr. Gibbs, and a few of the other crew members causing a racket in the room neighboring theirs, where they were all kept.

"What is this with keeping us separate from th' rest of the crew?" Brianne grumbled.

"It isn't proper for the men to be locked in the same cell as the women," Sara answered in more of a mumble then in a statement.

"Not proper? Who cares if it's not proper, that man up there that calls himself a Captain is a pirate, not a gentleman," Brianne remarked.

"Tell that to John. His thought process is rather complex when it comes to rules of protocol. Just trust me when I say that this is simply an issue of manners," Sara responded.

"It's hard to believe tha' he's the one that captured us after seein' 'is headstone in town. Wasn't he supposed to be dead?" Brianne asked.

"You saw that?" Sara asked, finally raising her head off her knees and looked at Brianne in shock.

"I followed ye, Kendal. Gosh, in th' old days dead men stayed dead," Brianne grumbled.

"Not all the time," Elizabeth said with a bit of a shudder. "Gosh, this is like being on Barbossa's ship again. It's cold, like something evil is resting on it."

"Hey, it's th' crew no' the ship," Brianne muttered.

"That's because it does. I don't know what that tombstone meant, but I know something is going on. It had already started before I left," Sara sighed, ignoring Brianne's comment.

"Besides, have you seen the way the crew acts? Some of them seem normal enough, but others, they seemed to be forced to do what they do. I don't think it's natural," Elizabeth remarked.

The loud tapping of feet echoed near the doorway, interrupting their conversation. All of them looked up at the doorway. A man in his mid thirties walked into the room carrying a tray with four bowls of whatever John had decided they would eat for dinner. Sara only briefly noticed the man, and then rested her head on her knees again.

"Here you are, ladies. I hope it's not too bad, the cook's pretty good, and we tried to keep it warm for you," the man stated as he handed us our bowls through the bars.

"Thank you," Elizabeth murmured from habit.

"Lady, here," the man tried to hand Sara's bowl to her. She looked up, and grabbed the dish. As her face was revealed, the man gasped. "Sara?"

Sara took a closer look at the man and her face lit up.

"Toby?" she questioned. The man grinned. "Toby it's so good to see you!"

Sara sat the bowl down and stood up to look the man in the eye.

"I can't believe you're here," Toby growled. "Oh, I'm gonna kill him, he's gone too far this time, bringing you back here. I swear I'm going to kill him." He turned around, apparently intent on doing just as he said.

"No, wait Toby, don't go yet!" Sara called.

"Toby? Who's Toby?" Elizabeth questioned.

"An old beau?" Brianne questioned with a grin.

"No!" Sara exclaimed as she turned towards Brianne in shock. Toby laughed, most of his previous anger seeming to vanish, though his eyes were still aflame.

"That would be rather strange, considering she's my cousin," Toby responded.

"Oh, family, that makes sense," Brianne remarked as she leaned back against the cell door looking a bit disappointed.

"You didn't know that I was here?" Sara asked.

"Of course not. If I would have known that John had been trying to capture you I would have stopped him. All of us would have, at least all that's left of the old crew. Most of us were abandoned at various ports," Toby explained.

"What? Why would he do that?" Sara questioned.

"John keeps things close to the vest nowadays, no one knows why he does what he does. All we know is it started a few years ago when he met this gent in Nassau. He's gone mad ever since."

"Toby, why does everyone in John's hometown think he's dead? Why is there a grave for him there?" Sara inquired desperately. The question had been plaguing her since the grave marker's discovery.

"I don't know," Toby muttered, his voice and eyes clearly displaying the fact that he was lying. Sara became even more confused by this. Toby didn't lie to her. He never had. Like Sampson, he had been someone that she had depended on and he had never betrayed her trust. "He doesn't talk about it much, so we don't either."

This last line gave Sara more hints then his previous refusal. He had an apologetic look in his eyes, yet a meaningful one as well. He couldn't answer that question of hers. John was hiding something, and that something could endanger everyone. Sara nodded a bit, letting him know that she understood.

"Anyway, I'm going to go talk to him. It isn't right, capturing you and making you stay. After what he did to you he shouldn't even be able to look at you again, let alone interfere in your life," Toby stated.

"Don't get yourself hurt, Toby, I might need you later," Sara responded.

"Aye, miss. Leave the whole problem to me," Toby promised as he left.

The hold was dark as night crept over the ship, and the soft breathing of the three women near her gave Sara a bit of peace as she sat in her cell and pretended to sleep. She wouldn't be able to sleep even if she had wanted to. Not only was being so close to John disconcerting, but the knowledge that John was hiding something, something that terrified both Sampson and Toby, made finding sleep impossible.

Instead she let her mind wander, repeating the most humorous lines from Cyrano that she could remember, and trying to think of other happy things, but nothing seemed to ease her mind. Much to her dismay, she began thinking of the dream she had dreamt the night that they had escaped Port Royal, the dream that Brianne had interrupted.

_Mist swirled around her, closing in on her like she had stepped into a cloud. As she was wandering around, trying to find a way out, a shadow came toward her. She stopped and simply looked into the darkness in an attempt to learn the identity of this other lost traveler. She took a step back in fear as she recognized John's face, and was about to run when she looked at him a second time. The fear that she usually felt around him was gone, the evil aura had shattered. She could see the goodness in his deep blue eyes, blue eyes that still sparkled with life, as opposed to the dull, grayish blue eyes that had haunted her nightmares before. He wore a white shirt and white breeches. This was her John, the John she had wanted to marry, the John that she had trusted and loved._

"_John?" her voice was no louder then a soft whisper, for she was afraid that a louder sound would shatter this wonderful image before her. Though her voice was soft, John seemed to hear her, for at that moment he turned her way and smiled._

"_Sara!" he called, no hesitation in his voice._

_He started to run toward her and her feet began to move of their own volition. The moment she was close enough, he lifted her into the air and kissed her, his lips reaching hers slowly, carefully, as if he had all the time in the world. He was exactly as she remembered him. Once he had kissed her, he placed her back on the ground. Her arms were still around his neck, and he rested his chin on the top of her head as he continued to hold her. The familiar feel of his chin on her head and his breath in her hair caused memories she had suppressed for years to come back to her mind. Tears leaked out of Sara's eyes. She held onto him tightly, as if by doing so she could make this real again. She had never realized until that moment how much she still loved him, the old him, her John._

"_What's wrong?" he whispered into her hair as he kissed the top of her head._

"_I don't want this to end. I don't want to go back," she whispered to him, her voice thick with tears._

_She felt his hands run down the top of her head and trail through her hair until he reached the end and repeated the process. His hands were so soft and gentle. She had never thought them capable of harming her, had never thought that his sweet hands would ever bring her pain._

"_You don't have to go. Stay here with me. I miss you so much, Sara," he answered._

"_I can't stay, for this is nothing but a dream, a memory that returns to haunt me," she sighed._

"_Are you quite certain?" he asked as he tilted her head up a bit, causing her to see his eyes._

"_Yes. You aren't this man anymore, John, you are cruel and evil, and I want nothing to do with you. This dream, though wonderful, is fake."_

_John nodded, kissed her head lightly between her eyes, and then again on the top of her head as she rested her head again on his chest, remembering how much she had loved him._

"_I love you, Sara," he whispered in her ear. Something in his tone frightened her suddenly, and she looked up at him. There was intense sorrow in his eyes._

"_You say that so finally. Please don't leave me. Whether you be dream or not I don't want to lose you again so soon," she pled._

"I know that it will be today, my own dearly beloved – and my heart still so heavy with love I have not told, and I die without telling you! No more shall my eyes drink the sight of you like wine, never more, with a look that is a kiss follow the sweet grace of you..._" he quoted against her ear. She knew the words instantly, they were Cyrano's final letter to Roxanne, the one he quoted to her on his deathbed. That scene, those words, had always made her weep no matter how many times she had read them. "_My heart cries out, cries out and keeps crying 'farewell, my dear, my dearest, my heart's own, my treasure, my love._" Tears came to her eyes now as the words hauntingly flew over her, as if she herself were the lovely Roxanne, cradling a dying Cyrano near to her heart as he confessed his love to her. "_I am never away from you. Even now I shall not leave you. In another world I shall be still that one who loves you, loves you beyond measure, beyond - _"_

"_John, what are you saying?" she interrupted once she could take no more and remain sane._

"_I love you, Sara," he repeated, and then disappeared._

_Sara looked around desperately, trying to find where he had gone._

"_John? John where are you?" she called._

_She walked through the fog, searching for a shadow, a sound, any sign that John was still near. As she wandered, the mist began to darken, turning grey, and then finally to black. She shivered as a cold wind blasted at her and the distant rumble of thunder reached her ears._

"_John! John, where are you!" she shouted._

"_Right here," John's voice echoed near her._

_Sara spun around and faced the voice. She gasped and took a few steps back. Instead of wearing white as before, he was dressed completely in black, his bright eyes darkened, almost black as well. The evil aura was back and it tumbled over her like a tidal wave. She stumbled backwards, trying to get away from the image before her, an image so similar, yet so different from the one that she had seen only moments before. John chuckled._

"_I see that my presence is far from comforting," he announced._

"_You stay away from me or I swear I'll kill you," Sara hissed._

"_You will? How do you intend on killing me when you stumble and nearly run simply at the sight of me?" The demonic version of John grinned, and waited for whatever comeback Sara had planned._

"_This is only a dream," Sara muttered to herself. "That's not even him, just a memory, and a distorted memory at that."_

"_Are you sure that it is simply a memory?" John called out, as if her whisper had been a shout. "Are you quite certain that you can dismiss me as a dream?"_

"_Leave me alone!" Sara shouted._

"_Give me what I seek and I won't bother you anymore. You have something I need, and I will do anything to get it," he promised._

"_I don't have anything!" Sara exclaimed._

"_Are you so sure? Well, I shall see soon enough anyway," he vowed._

"_What is it you want? What is it that I have?" Sara asked. Before he had been able to answer, she was awakened with a jerk to see Brianne's worried face._

Sara shook herself out of the memory and rubbed her arms to return the heat and feeling into them. How ironic had it been that so short a time after her nightmare, John had indeed found her. She thought of the demonic being and shivered again. She thought of the first John, and shivered even more. That dream wasn't terrifying because of its horrors, but because of the part of herself that she had to face. She had gone back to John so quickly, the instant that she had any indication that he had changed back. Was she really so weak that all he had to do was look at her like he used to, kiss her, and whisper poems in her ear, and he could take her back? What had happened to hating him?

"Ugh," she growled in frustration and shifted her position on the floor.

"You know, I find this terribly ironic, well, in an evil, annoyin' sort o' way," Brianne grumbled. Sara sat up straighter and tried to see the other girl in the darkness.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Sara asked.

"Nah, I've been awake. That's the ironic part. You've been keepin' me up all night for the last few days with your nightmares, and now, when you're awake and can't have them and I finally get a little quiet, I suddenly can't sleep," Brianne complained.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bother. Believe me, if I could make the nightmares stop, or at least not vocalize them, I would."

Brianne hesitated a bit before speaking again, a bit of an uncomfortable silence in her voice. "Uh, Sara, lass, what's wrong with ye? I mean, it's a little late for ye t'pretend that nothing happened wit' ye and John in the past."

Sara drew a deep breath and was suddenly incredibly happy that it was too dark to see anything. Brianne couldn't read the emotions that were playing on her face.

"John, well, John," Sara tried to find a way to explain the situation to Brianne, but her mouth always went dry.

"Yes?"

"John's not a very nice man," she finished.

"Well I bloody well gathered that!" Brianne grunted. "Sorry, I'm not in the best of moods."

"Well I suppose being in the brig of your ship can do that to anyone," Sara responded, desperately trying to change the subject.

"Sara, please tell me what's going on," she requested.

Sara was so taken aback By Brianne's sincere use of the word 'please' that she almost blurted out the entire story. Instead, she tried to form her words carefully, yet sate Brianne's curiosity at the same time.

"John and I were friends a long time ago, but I'm afraid the friendship went a bit sour," Sara stated.

"How long ago?"

"I was nearly twenty-one the last time I saw him, so that would make it just over six years."

"That's not all that long ago. I hadn't seen Jack for ten years before our last meeting, and it already feels like he's been annoying me for my entire life," Brianne snorted.

"Well it feels like I was in a different life when I was last with him," Sara whispered, her voice giving out on her.

"You don't have to say anything more if it hurts ye, Sara. I shouldn't have asked in the first place."

"I understand why you did ask, I would want to know as well if I were you."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the two women as they both tried desperately to find a way to break the awkwardness that had overcome them.

"Ye two gels still awake?" a deep voice, a bit raspy for lack of water, questioned. Sara jumped a bit at the sound and tried to find its source. "Sara? Brianne?"

A smile crept over Sara's face when she realized who it was.

"Yes we are, Gibbs, what do you want?" Sara asked with a bit of a laugh in her voice. Her hands skimmed over the wall at her back and, as she had expected, there was a hole about a foot above the floor near Elizabeth.

"Well, we jus' wanted to check t'see if ye really were just on the other side of this wall. I guess we have a way o' talkin now."

"Gibbs, is everyone over there with ye?" Brianne asked.

"Don' worry, Luv, I'm right over 'ere," Jack's laughing voice echoed near us.

"Oh shut up," Brianne grumbled. "Now not only do I have to sit as a prisoner in me own ship, but I have to do it while listening to yer bloody annoying voice."

Sara smiled as she listened to Brianne and Jack argue back and forth, with other members of the crew commenting from time to time. She closed her eyes and tried to convince herself that she was simply back on the deck of the Black Pearl, not sitting in a brig on some foreign ship. As she was trying to gather some peace of mind, she felt a prickle along the back of her neck. She rubbed it to make the feeling go away, but it only became worse. The unpleasant sensation moved up into her head, causing a headache to form. Her lungs became heavy, as if someone were keeping them from expanding. Every breath became labored. She barely noticed that all of the talking had stopped.

"Wha's going on over there?" Jack asked.

"I dunno. Sara? Sara what's going on?" Brianne came close to her.

"I don't know," Sara gasped out.

Brianne's hand went over Sara's face as she moved her hand up to her forehead.

"What's going on?" Elizabeth inquired as she sat up, her sleep interrupted by Sara's gasping for breath.

"Her skin feels like it's on fire," Brianne muttered. That's when Sara understood. That's how she felt, like she was on fire. Her skin was warm and uncomfortable, and her lungs were heaving, as if they were starved for oxygen because of smoke. As she realized this, her ailments suddenly disappeared. "Wait, her skin's cooling. Sara, what just happened?"

"I don't know for certain, but I think I was being burned."

"Burned? But there's no fire here. How could you be burning?" Brianne argued. "Well, unless you're implying some kind of voodoo or something."

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm implying. It's the only thing that I can think of that would explain how I just felt," Sara argued back.

"You seriously think that someone was using voodoo to kill you? Or better yet, you really think that there is even such a thing as real voodoo?" Brianne questioned.

"I agree that most people who claim to be able to do it are charlatans, but I lived near the Louisiana bayou for too long to completely discredit it," Sara responded.

"Ye lived in Louisiana?" Jack asked.

"For most of my youth, from twelve to nearly seventeen. My adopted mother was quite superstitious and she had a friend that would read her tarot cards every week. The woman was a complete fake, but she had a colored slave, a wonderful girl, that I swear could actually tell the future. She showed me how voodoo works, but I never tried it out myself."

"Well, I've seen enough odd things that I can't discredit your theory, Sara, but why would someone want to kill you now?" Elizabeth inquired.

Sara thought on the question for a bit, confused herself. While she was pondering who would want to do her any harm, she immediately thought of John, the dark vision that she had seen in her dreams. She also thought of Sampson, who had started coughing and gasping when he had tried to tell Sara about John. She again felt a chill run down her spine, but this time she knew that it was simply nerves and fear.

"I don't think anyone was trying to kill me, simply warn me," Sara sighed.

"Well how could doing what they did be a warning?" Will asked from the other side of the wall.

"Because only a few of the people on this ship know about my knowledge on voodoo, and they knew that I would recognize it. I'm being warned to stay where I am and do what I'm told. I'm afraid this could also be a threat against all of you. A snippet of hair or a piece of clothing could make any of you as much of a target as I am."

A silence fell over both rooms.

"Well do ye think it's this crazy man John who's doin' it to ye?" Brianne broke the silence.

"No. John never knew Voodoo or magic, but he could very well have new friends that do," Sara stated.

"Well then how do we stop this person from killin us?" Jack asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sara's voice shook with a tinge of fear. "I simply act pleasant and cooperate with whatever this person wants."

"So basically we're here simply to keep you here?" Elizabeth questioned, her voice soft but holding, to Sara's surprise, a bit of anger at being used as a tool..

"Yes, well, let th' man just try to make me into some warped blackmail item. He'll find I'm not so easy to control," Brianne huffed.

"And how are ye gonna stop something like that, Macki? It's not like ye can shoot magic," Jack argued.

"No, but I can shoot the magician," Brianne remarked with a grin in her voice.

"Don't bother, I won't have you all killed on my account. Just don't act out and I'll find some way to get us all out," Sara remarked.

"And what makes ye think yer responsible fer all of us?" Brianne asked.

"Well I got us into this mess, and I'll get us out," Sara answered.

"Yeah, yeah, don't flatter yourself, I've been in worse messes then this before," Brianne announced.

"Brianne is right, you know, you shouldn't blame yourself," Elizabeth whispered as she sat down next to Sara and rubbed her shoulder as a mother might rub a daughter's shoulder. After a moment, she withdrew her hand and leaned her head back against the bars of the brig. "In any case," she raised the volume of her voice so that everyone could hear her, "we should all try to sleep. We won't get anywhere if we are exhausted."

"She is right, you know," Will's voice told everyone in his cell.

"Oh sure, side with Elizabeth," Jack responded.

"I will when she's right, and a few times when she isn't."

"Yeah Jack, get to sleep so I don't have t'listen to ye anymore," Brianne stated.

"Ye didn't have to in th' first place, luv," Jack commented.

Brianne drew in a breath, probably ready to yell at Jack, when someone's voice was heard on the men's side of the wall.

"Hey gents, best be quieten down a bit, the captain won't be 'appy if 'is rest is interrupted."

"Oh and we wouldn't wan' that to 'appen, now would we?" Jack grumbled.

"Actually, ye wouldn't, he's rather found o' beatin' prisoners who won't behave, and I assure you, sleepin' of yer own accord is a lot better'n sleeping because ye've been beaten unconscious."

"Don' worry, we will," Gibbs interrupted whatever Jack was going to say. "G'night."

"Will you be okay for tonight?" Elizabeth whispered the question to Sara. "I can stay up with you if you like."

"No, get some sleep. I'll be fine," Sara assured her.

"All right. If you need me you'll get me, won't you?"

"Yes," Sara responded as she settled back against the wall and closed her eyes. After nearly an hour, she was finally able to sink into the black oblivion of sleep and, to her relief, she did not dream.

"Get up!"

Sara's sleep was interrupted by a brawny, middle aged man as he pulled her off of the floor by her arm. She instantly gasped at the sudden change of position, and struggled to get her legs to awaken and support her weight. Light shone through the floorboards above her head, and she had to squint as the light assaulted her eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"The captain has requested an audience with you, miss Kendal," the man informed her.

"What? Now? But I didn't request parley, according to the code doesn't he have to speak with those under parley before those not under it?" Sara questioned. She didn't actually know if he did, but she was taking a chance that there was such a rule in the Pirate's code.

"The Captain can see anyone he wants, whenever he wants, and right now he wants to see you."

"Well you can tell your Captain that I refuse to come see him. If he wants to talk to me, he can come down here," Sara remarked.

"Aren't ye a bit small to be making such a statement to me?" the man asked as he lifted her off her feet by her shirt collar.

Sara grabbed one of the bars of the cell door and clung to it like a barnacle.

"I am not going with you."

The man pulled her, trying to force her out of the door, but she held fast to the bar. Brianne shuffled in her sleep, and woke up, rubbing her eyes as she sat up and looked around. As she spotted Sara, she stood up.

"You let her go," Brianne told the man without even waiting to find out what he was doing.

The man glared down at Brianne and shoved her away from him with the hand that wasn't holding Sara's collar. Brianne took a step back to steady herself, and then looked up at the giant.

"You did not just shove me," she stated as she drew her fist back and punched the man in the face. He let go of Sara and held his eye.

Sara ran to the opposite corner of the cell, or at least she was heading for it when she was again lifted off of her feet as the man picked her up by her waist.

"Why don't ye pick on someone yer own size, ye brute! She's just a little thing," Brianne growled. The man ignored her and began carrying Sara up to meet the captain.

"Brianne, help me!" Sara gasped, her eyes wide with terror and her face pale. Brianne kicked the back of the man's knee as hard as she could and he fell forward onto the ground. Unfortunately, he took Sara down with him. Brianne ran over to the fallen man and pulled Sara out from underneath him.

Without waiting to see what Brianne's reaction would be, Sara grabbed onto her shoulders and buried her head in the crook of Brianne's neck. She didn't want to cry, she wasn't going to let herself, but it was a hard battle to fight.

"Well, yer welcome I guess," Brianne grumbled. Sara was just pulling away from her friend when the sailor started to get up.

"That was uncalled for," he growled at Brianne. Sara paled and ran back for the brig. The man knocked Brianne aside and grabbed Sara and pulled her over his shoulder.

On an impulse, Sara threw her foot forwards, kicking him in the stomach. He gasped, but didn't let her go. Instead he drew one of his fists back and punched her in the stomach. The wind escaped her lungs and she was momentarily paralyzed. Brianne again punched the man in the face, but he simply pulled back the arm he had used to punch Sara and punched Brianne in the face. She flew backwards and would have come back at him, but her head was slammed into the bars and she fell to the ground in a dead faint.

"Brianne!" Sara gasped as she struggled to get to her friend. A thin line of blood had formed on Brianne's scalp and started to dribble down her head. The man, fed up with Sara's stubbornness, hit her over her head, and she was instantly unconscious.

Light touched the back of her eyelids, waking her from her sleep. Her head pounded. She moaned lightly, and rolled onto her side. As she did, she was surprised to feel something smooth beneath her. They were blankets. She was in a bed! She took a deep breath, wishing with all of her might that she had simply bumped her head on the Black Pearl and that she was lying in her bed, and everything had simply been a bad dream. She cautiously opened her eyes, praying that something familiar would meet her line of vision. When she opened her eyes, however, she found that nothing around her was from Jack's cabin. She squeezed her eyes shut again, and rolled onto her stomach, her head buried in the feather pillow. She listened to the sounds of the room, a thought entering her mind. She listened with all of her might, and was greeted by a beautiful silence. No breathing or movement, no one was in the room with her.

She knew from seeing it the other day that John's room was near the railing. With some luck, she would be able to jump overboard and get away from the Midnight Dawn. She turned around, and sat up. She looked around, and climbed out of the bed. This room was larger then Jack's and Sara suppressed a smile as she noticed a lot of Brianne in it, though all of the decorations screamed of John's presence. She walked quietly towards the door, and cautiously turned the knob. She looked out onto the deck and noticed that she had a clear shot at the railing, there were only two people on board, the rest were probably eating, save the lookout in the crow's nest. She was about to sneak out of the door, when it slammed of its own accord, nearly smashing her nose. She took a step back and her heart stopped when she noticed the hand on the door. She nervously looked towards the source of the hand and her heart stopped. How she hadn't heard John's breathing she would never know.

"Hello again, Sara," he remarked. Without thinking she again reached for the doorknob and tried to pull the door open. Just the sight of John again had made her heart race with fear. She didn't care if anyone on the deck saw her, she couldn't be alone with John again. She got the door partially open again, but he again closed it. "Sara, wait."

Even her dreams hadn't prepared Sara for this moment. Being near her once fiancée in her dreams and seeing him so close to her and knowing it was real, were two very different things. She took a step away from him until she was standing with her back against his desk. Her hands fumbled in one of the drawers in an attempt to find anything sharp. She found a knife used for opening envelopes, and held it with both hands. The cool metal helped her feel a bit more secure.

"Let me go," the words fell from her mouth without her wanting them to. She was not the pitiful victim she once was, so why was she acting like she was a terrified infant?

"I'm not going to stop you if you truly want to leave," he told her.

His statement caught her off guard. His voice wasn't the same. Sure it sounded the same, but there was an undertone that confused her. She gathered up her courage and took her eyes off of the floorboard and actually stared at him. His golden-brown hair brushed the tips of his ears, as always, and his dark blue pants and deep red, almost black, shirt helped him blend into the shadows. In her happier memories of him he had always been wearing lighter colors, but somehow these ones didn't seem as offensive as her nightmare versions of him were. His eyes seemed black in the shadows, but they didn't seem cruel.

"Then why am I here?" she questioned as she inwardly cursed herself for speaking so softly. At least she wasn't stuttering.

"I need to talk to you. I want to apologize," he announced, his voice as soft and clear as usual. His words, however, seemed to give her a bit more courage.

"Wait a minute, am I to believe that you attacked a ship and took the entire crew captive simply to apologize to me?"

"Sara, I had to see you again. I've regretted what I did since the moment it happened and you left. Sara, I love you."

"You love me? You love me! Tell me, did you love me when you broke my ribs? What about my collar bone, did you love me when you broke that? Oh yes, you must have loved me when you were watching Sampson pick me up and carry me away from you," Sara nearly shouted.

"Sara, I know what I did was wrong, horrible, cruel even. I don't expect you to forgive me, you shouldn't have to, but I have to let you know how I feel. I do love you."

John took a step towards her and put his hand out as if to stroke her cheek. She flinched involuntarily at his touch, and moved away from him.

"Don't touch me. Don't you ever touch me again!" she shouted.

John took a step back and put his hands up in a non-offensive position.

"I'm sorry, Sara, I truly am, but please, just listen to me," he begged.

Sara moved to the side of the desk, the envelope opener still clenched in her hands, and pressed her back up against the wall in an attempt to get as far away from John as she could.

"And what makes me think that you don't have a hidden motive? How can I know that you're sincere? If you've truly been that miserable without me then why are you just now talking to me?" Sara questioned.

"I made a big mistake when you left, Sara, and I realize that I hurt you. I didn't want to bring you back when I could still hurt you."

"And you can't now? John, I want out. Maroon me on some island, put me in a life boat and send me out to sea, do anything, just let me go," she announced.

"I'll let you off at the next port if you want me to, but please, just listen to me first."

"I don't suppose I have a choice anyway," she muttered in a desperate attempt to hide behind sarcasm.

"Sara, you know that I've never been an eloquent man, I can only quote elegant things that others have said, so I'm going to be blunt. I want you back. I've missed you, more then I've missed any other person in my entire life. You brought this, well, joy to the ship. The whole crew felt it. They loved you, I loved you, and since you left, it's like there's this hole in my life that I can't fill. Please, at least consider staying," he pled.

"You know John, there would have been a time when I would have believed you, or at least I would have considered what you ask, but not anymore. You hurt me, John, you hurt me too badly for me to even be able to stand being this close to you," Sara announced.

"I understand, Sara. But I swear to you that I've changed. Please, just think about it," he asked.

Sara tried to picture in her mind what it would be like to be with John again. Maybe he _had_ changed. She tried desperately to convince herself that he was himself again, that they could start over again. When she looked up into his eyes, however, she felt another chill run down her spine and she was suddenly assaulted by memories that she didn't want to enter her mind.

"No, John, things will never be able to work out. I can't stay here anymore. You told me that I could go when I wanted, and I want to. So if you'll excuse me I'll go back to my cell," she retorted.

She then started walking towards the door again, holding the envelope holder tightly underneath her sleeve, ready to attack if he gave her a reason. Her fingers curled around the door knob and she was about to open it when she felt John's hand softly grab her wrist. Instinctively she pulled it away and nearly pulled the crude knife out of her sleeve and attacked him. As she spun around she found herself only a few inches from him, she could feel his breath on the top of her head, and her instincts started screaming at her to run. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt as if her heart would stop beating at any moment. She flinched as his fingers gently brushed against her cheek and moved a strand of her hair away from her eyes. Before she could move, he bent down and kissed her.

She was suddenly assaulted by a barrage of emotions. She was filled with an intense, nearly overwhelming sense of terror, but at the same time she felt an equally intense revival of the feelings that she had been suppressing for six years. She threw her arm around his neck and returned his kiss without even thinking about it. After a moment, she felt the cool metal of the weapon in her sleeve against her skin. The feeling woke her from her delusion and she pulled away from him, withdrawing her hand as if simply by touching him she could get sick or be fooled into making herself into the defenseless innocent she had been before. She gasped to regain her breath as she fell back against the wall and regained her balance. She reached behind herself and tried to open the door. Her hands were shaking and it took a few tries to actually get a grip on the door knob.

"Just think about it," he whispered as she opened the door and nearly fell out of it.

She was immediately taken by two of the crew members and returned to the cell where they wrestled the envelope opener out of her hands before locking the door again.

"So what did the idiot want?" Brianne asked. Sara looked at her friend with sympathy as she noticed the dried blood on Brianne's head. She seemed to have recovered from hitting her head, but the injury had definitely put her in a foul mood.

"Nothing. I-it was nothing," Sara stuttered as she again took up her position in the corner with her knees curled up against her chest with her head down.

"You sure yer okay?" Brianne questioned.

Sara nodded without looking up.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'll be fine."

Over the course of the next few days John talked with every member of the crew. Sara couldn't help but notice that a few changes had come over everyone. After Brianne's parley, she seemed even more frustrated then normal, but Sara couldn't help but feel that a lot of this new confusion was from annoyance. Elizabeth didn't talk much about her parley either, but Sara started to see that John was sifting them. Elizabeth was placed in the cell with the men after her parley, and according to the reports by Gibbs, the men were being moved around through the three cells in the other room. He was sorting them, Sara knew. He was looking for something, and he was categorizing his finds. Sara was thinking this over one day when Gibbs was brought back from his parley.

"What did he say to you?" everyone asked him as the guard left.

"He just asked me abou' Sara, actually, wanted t'know what she's been doin' an' all that."

"And what did you tell him?" Sara questioned through the hole in the wall.

"Well, I hope ye won' be angry wit' me, miss Sara, but I told him that ye were a good gel, and he shouldn't hurt ya like he is," Gibbs announced.

"Way t'defend yer woman, Gibbs," Jack laughed.

"Well I'll tell ya somethin', there's definitely something that this John fellow's tryin' t'find. He keeps askin' all of us about Sara, and then seems to be bored with us when we tell 'im that we just met her and don' know much about her," Gibbs announced.

"By th' way, what did John say t'ye, Kendal? There's obviously more answers to this mystery in yer conversation then in ours," Jack questioned.

Sara's thoughts immediately returned to John's kiss that he had given her; not to mention the kiss she had given in return, and she buried her head in her knees to hide any blush that might slip past her defenses.

"Leave her alone. If she don' want t'say anything then she don' have to," Brianne immediately growled.

"She's right, Sara's been through enough lately," Elizabeth agreed.

"Well I didn't mean anythin' by it, ye know," Jack muttered. "Gee, ye try t'talk to one o' them and the rest of th' females tear yer head off."

"Just be careful with him. He wants something, but he's trying to act nice to get it. Don't let him fool you," Sara warned.

"Yeah, that means you, Sparrow," Brianne grunted.

"Don't ye dare impugn me honor, Macki! You're jus' as likely t'spill yer guts as I am," Jack commented.

"Ye keep thinkin' that, Jack," Brianne countered.

Sara sighed as Jack and Brianne's argument escalated and all thoughts had turned away from her. She didn't want to explain anything to these people. All of them, save maybe Brianne and Elizabeth, were strangers to her. She didn't know enough about them to trust them, and revealing any of her secrets to them was not something she wanted to do. She would simply have to find some way of getting them out, and then she would hop aboard, or steal, the next ship she came across and get out of their lives forever.

As night crept over the ship, Sara found, quite expectedly, that sleep would not come to her. It seemed that Brianne couldn't sleep again as well, for she kept tossing and turning on her side of the cell.

"I'm sorry, Brianne. I'm sorry for getting you into this," Sara whispered.

"It's no' yer fault, Sara. It's that bloody stupid captain of yer's fault," Brianne grumbled.

"What did he say to you, Brianne? I really want to know," Sara asked.

"He made me a proposition," Brianne began.

"And?" Sara prodded.

"He offered me the Dawn back again," Brianne answered in a flat, emotionless voice.

"For what?" Sara wondered. Her skin felt like ice as she realized what was going to happen. This was Brianne's ship. She would do anything to get it back. She silently berated herself for not having seen this happening sooner.

"He wanted me to tell him about you, everything I knew, and then leave you with him as we left," she announced.

Sara pushed back the tears of fear and frustration coming to her eyes. She was going to die. She knew it. The only thing keeping her from going mad now was the presence of Brianne and the crew near her. Even Jack, though she'd never admit it, gave her a small amount of comfort. If she lost them, if she were here all by herself, she knew that she wouldn't make it. Still, she hadn't known Brianne for a very long time. She had been stupid to trust her so much, and to expect so much from her.

"Well, congratulations on getting your ship back, captain. You must be happy," Sara stated. She tried to make her voice match the sentiment, but it was definitely weak.

"What are you talking about?" Brianne questioned.

"Well, you got the Dawn back, didn't you? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Sara Kendal, do you think that I sold you out? Hades, what kind a' pirate do ye think I am!"

"You mean you didn't take John up on that offer?" Sara asked.

"No."

Sara couldn't help but be shocked into silence. Brianne had just given up the one thing she wanted most in the world, and she had done it to keep her safe.

"Brianne I - " she began.

"Sara, get up," a man's rough voice shouted.

Sara jumped, and nearly banged into the bars of the door. By the sound of rustling material she could tell that Brianne was getting up as well.

"Why?" Sara demanded.

"Because the Captain wants to talk to you, why else? Now get out here!"

Sara's breathing started to speed up. This crew member was not in a good mood. There was an intense mood on the ship, and Sara could tell even without being told that John was in a foul disposition and he was growing impatient. Brianne seemed to sense this as well, for as Sara crawled towards the door that the man had unlocked, Brianne grabbed her arm.

"You don't have to go, Sara. Stay here," she announced.

"I do have to go. If I refuse, he'll get angry, and then he'll come down here, and you and Elizabeth could get hurt."

"Let him come, I'll fight 'im. And let me tell ye, if even half o' the stories I've heard about Jack and Will's little adventure with tha' Barbossa character are true, then I can assure ye that Elizabeth can hold 'er own too," Brianne tried to reassure her.

"You don't know John. Besides, this is my battle. I have to face him on my own," Sara tried to explain.

"Well, as stubborn and idiotic as that is, I understand. There are times when someone needs to do things by themselves, though this goes against all o' me better judgment," Brianne said the last line under her breath.

"You have a better judgment?" Sara laughed.

"Hah, hah, very funny, now go and get back fast or I swear I'll come lookin' for ye," Brianne warned.

"Brianne?" Sara replied.

"What?"

"Thank you," Sara commented.

"Thanks fer what?" Brianne inquired.

"Well, for everything. Just, thanks," Sara finished.

Sara felt Brianne squeeze her arm comfortingly, and then she let go. Sara took a moment to hesitate, and then stepped out of the cell and towards whatever awaited her.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

Sara was brought up to the main deck, and her guide returned to his bunk. John stood by the railing, feet slightly apart, hands behind his back. His dark silhouette against the deep blue ocean and the shining moon almost made him look as if he was in the military. She stood beside the door that led back to the brig, but she knew that if she left she would only make things worse.

"It is," she answered hesitantly.

"You can come closer, you know, I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.

Sara didn't move, she simply stayed near the door, her hands clasping the door frame. He smiled. She could barely see it in the moonlight, but she could tell that he did. He walked towards her slowly, and he gently took her hand as he led her towards the railing. Once there, he slung his arm around her waist like he used to. She had to fight a sudden impulse to put her arm around his waist as well. This was all too familiar, and she didn't like it at all. Instead of resting her head on his chest and staring at the moon with him like her impulses told her to, she pulled away from him.

"What did you want to tell me? I'd like to know so that I can get back to sleep," she announced.

She knew that she was treading thin ice by using sarcasm so flippantly, but she felt that she needed to do something to convince herself that she was in control.

"I didn't want to tell you anything. It's a lovely night, and I wanted to be with you for a moment," he answered.

"You woke me up for that? Need I remind you John that we are not together anymore? I don't trust you, and I don't want to be alone with you," I remarked.

"Sara," he began, his voice a bit hesitant. He looked down at the ground, and then back up into her eyes, "I haven't been completely honest with you."

"Tell me something I don't know," she muttered.

"I didn't just bring you here to ask for your forgiveness. I need your help," he began.

"Well, how could I have guessed that?" she announced with a thick undertone of sarcasm.

"Please, Sara, hear me out without shouting at me for once," he snapped. Sara backed up a step as she was attacked by the venom in his voice. Within an instant, however, the venom was gone, replaced again with his look of pleading and apology. He again turned towards the railing to look down at the water as he spoke. "I am after a treasure, Sara, a marvelous treasure like none other."

"And what treasure would that be?" Sara inquired.

"The treasure of a lifetime; a treasure that grants power, wealth, and even immortality to all who wield them," he told her.

"And what do you need me for, it sounds like you have everything well in hand."

"But you don't understand, Sara, I don't have everything I need. I don't know where it is, and it is necessary that I get it quickly. I need a map, and I have reason to believe that you can provide me with one," he turned towards her and looked her in the eye, instantly giving her the horrible feeling that he was a lion standing over his prey: her. Sara felt herself pale and she suddenly became acutely aware of the tube with the rolled up map under her clothes. How did he know that she had it? What was she going to do?

"A map to so great a treasure would be hidden somewhere, not with me. I haven't had a true adventure since our last one. Why would I have a map?" she questioned.

She decided in that instant that she would not let John have the map. She looked at him and tried to imagine what would happen if he were immortal, and she shuddered. She would not let him live forever to plague the world.

"You have the map, I know it, and you will give it to me," he stated matter-of-factly. "It's a matter of life and death for me. This treasure isn't even for me, Sara, it's for a friend as well," he announced.

"Oh yeah, sure. John, even if I had that map, I wouldn't give it to you. No one needs an immortal sadist prowling the world!" Sara shouted as she finally lost her temper. She regretted the act immediately when she saw John's face contort into a look of loathing.

"You will give me that map, Sara, one way or another. My neck is on the line, and I will do anything to get it out of this noose. Now hand over that map, and I will be generous. I will let you come with me and I will even give you a share of the treasure, but if you don't," he walked even closer to her until he was only an inch or so away from her. She had to fight all of her desires to run and stand up to him. "I will personally see to it that your life becomes one torment after another until you will not only give me the map, but you will beg me to kill you afterwards."

"You make it sound so tempting," Sara mocked. "But I'm afraid, John darling, that I am not the same innocent I was before. I've held my own in the roughest of tavern brawls in Tortuga, I think I can hold my own against you."

It only took Sara a moment to realize that she had lied through her teeth. She had survived many brawls, yes, but she had never cared for any of the men she had brawled with. Despite her fear, there was still a small part in her heart that loved this man. Even though his face was twisted with anger, she still saw the beauty in it. It would take quite a bit for her to mar that face, and a moment's hesitation would be her downfall.

"Really? Can you truly say that I am nothing more then a mere brawler? Sara, look at me," he ordered. She looked at the ground in defiance. He lifted her chin with his hand, forcing her to look him in the eye. She tried to meet his gaze with defiance, but she knew that he could see right through her. "I know you better then you know yourself, Sara. Just give me the map and I will make your life that of the grandest queen. You will be a goddess among mortals. Help me, and I will fulfill all of your dreams."

In a gesture of dominance, he ducked down and kissed her, a kiss full of power and predation. He was proving that he had control over her, and she hated that feeling. As he kissed her, she suddenly got an image of herself as a radiant goddess, her gowns spread around her and her countenance as bright as the sun. It was the very image he had wanted to create for her. At the very moment she thought of it, however, the image disappeared. She would not be happy like that. It wouldn't be her. She pulled out of his kiss and tried to hit him, though he hand her wrists in his hands.

"I was not meant to be a goddess, John, I was meant to be what I am, a pirate, and I will not help you," she vowed.

"Well then, if you will not help me willingly, then you will help me because you are compelled to do so," he hissed.

In an act of speed and strength that she had not remembered, he reached around her, and twisted her arm behind her back. She gasped as she felt the muscles strain, but she wouldn't let him see that he had hurt her. She threw her head back, and heard her skull connect with his chest, knocking the wind out of him. She heard him gasp as she had, and felt him release her arm as he stumbled back. Instead of growing angry, however, he simply laughed. It was a low, cruel laugh, the laugh that she had heard in her nightmare.

"I see my pet has grown teeth and claws since I last saw her, but I wonder, does she know about _my_ new claws?" he stated. Sara braced herself for a fight, and tried to ignore the face in front of her.

He grinned again, and lunged at her. He slammed into her instantly, Sara didn't even know what was happening until it had. He had become faster. He landed on top of her, and backhanded her hard. Her head spun, and she felt her nose start to bleed. She struck back at him, throwing all of her strength into the punch, but he moved away from her, avoiding the blow. He grinned demonically as he threw a punch into her stomach. She gasped for air as he got off of her, and stood over her as she tried to get up. As she pulled herself up on one arm, he kicked her side and she fell back down.

"You can beat me, can you? I think not, my love. Why don't you get up and try to attack me? Why don't you?"

He kicked her again. She tasted blood as it ran from her nose and down her chin. She moaned and silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she felt her ribs bruise.

"John, please stop," she cried.

"What did you say?" he asked. He picked her up off of the ground by her collar and slammed her into a wall where she was at eye level with him. "Give me the map and I'll gladly stop."

"I'd rather die," she moaned. He backhanded her again. She gasped to breath. "I would still rather die. This only makes me more determined to keep you away from that treasure."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," he replied as he punched her in the stomach for a second time. "Besides, I wonder, can you keep it away from me long without your little friends to protect you? You know that as you were brought up here you're little friend Macki was moved into the other room, and that silly hole in the wall has been patched. Without them you are nothing but what you once were."

"That's not true. I'm not who I once was, I won't let you control me again," she gasped as her vision began to dim. Her head felt as if it would split in two, but he couldn't get any information out of her if she was unconscious.

"You will always be that scared little girl, no matter what you look like, no matter what skills you learn, you will never change," he growled as he backhanded her again making her head hurt even worse.

He punched her once more, and she suddenly wondered if he was right.


	9. Ch 7: Your Mom and the Death of the Dawn

Author's Note: Okay, first off, I am _**VERY SORRY**_ that it took this long to get this chapter up. With school and everything else, I didn't have much time to write, so the story kind of got pushed to the back of my mind. However, guess what? School is out! So hopefully we can get lots of chapters out before it starts up again. Anyhow . . . . here it is. Enjoy, and review!

Chapter Seven: Your Mom and the Death of the Dawn

"Bloody hell, this is the most entirely boring thing I've done in a very long time," Brianne complained.

"Ye've mentioned tha' twice already," Sparrow told her. He was laying down with his hat over his face, apparently trying to sleep. If anyone could sleep right now, he could.

"Yer tellin' me that like I would care," Brianne drawled. "This makes me almost feel sorry for the people I put down here. Almost."

"Aye, tha's you, Macki, Mrs. Unfeelin'.

"Jack, ye know where ye can put that comment?"

"Would ye like to show me, Macki?" he asked, grinning under his hat.

"Bastard."

"Me mother was married when she 'ad me, thanks very much."

"But I thought she was a strumpet."

"Ye would."

"Yer mom would."

Jack looked at her incredously. "Tha' didn't even make any sense."

"So." Brianne stuck her tongue out at Jack. He sat up, and in reply, he stuck his thumbs in his ears, wiggling his fingers, sticking his own tongue out childishly.

Brianne looked at him, feigning seriousness. "Jack Sparrow, wha' in earth are ye doin'? Yer acting mighty childish."

He put his hands down immediately. "And yer a fine one to talk!" he yelled.

"Yer mom is a fine one."

"What!"

"You heard me."

"Would ya both just shut up?" Gibbs asked in desperation. Brianne and Jack had been going on like this for quite a while, and the entire crew was getting beyond tired of it.

"Perhaps," they both answered at the same time, then shut up.

"Wind in the sails."

"Good point, Cotton," said Gibbs.

Brianne looked over at Gibbs with her eyebrows raised.

"Well, ya see, Cotton says, well, at least 'is parrot says, that you two are just really-" Gibbs cut off, and gasped. She turned to see what he was gaping at, and gasped herself.

It was Toby, fury struck on every feature of his face, carrying a battered and bruised Sara. Brianne stood quickly and ran over to the bars of the brig, waiting for the door to be opened. "What happened to her?" she asked Toby quickly.

"John happened," he stated simply. "He got angry at her, and took it out with his fists. I barely got him calmed enough to take her away from him."

"Oh, Hades, I hate that man more by the minute," Brianne mumbled, taking in all of Sara's injuries. She was knocked out cold, and there was blood covering my face. Brianne looked back up, and saw that Sampson had also come carrying a few medical supplies.

"My healing skills are incredibly crude," Sampson told them, "but I can help patch her up better than she is right now." He paused. "If this happens again, she may die."

"Oh, don't worry, it won't," Brianne said with conviction. She took off her coat, folded it, and put it under Sara's head like a pillow. She then brushed her hair away from her face, trying to avoid touching the bruises that were already forming.

"Goodness," Elizabeth breathed.

Brianne glanced at her, then back to Sara. "Tha' eye looks somethin' terrible." She looked at Toby. "Is there any way you could get something cold for it to help with the swelling?"

"I'll see what I can do."

Brianne began to assess Sara's injuries. Her breathing was very shallow, and from what she could she through a rip in her shirt, her ribs were bruised on her left side. The bleeding from her nose had stopped to trickle, and Brianne grabbed a cloth from the few supplies Sampson had brought, and wiped the blood away from her face.

Brianne looked up, and saw the crew staring at her and Sara. She answered their unspoken question. "She'll be alright," she told them, though she really had no idea if Sara _would _be alright. Wounds may heal, but the memories linger far longer.

"Miss?"

"Aye?"

"He wants to see you." Brianne didn't have to ask who 'he' was. She was about to tell Toby that she wouldn't go, but after a look at Sara, she decided against it. She stood back up from where she was crouching near Sara, and walked over to Toby, who was holding the door open.

"Lass," she heard Jack say. Brianne turned around. "Be careful."

"I can hold my own," she told him.

He retorted, "So could Sara."

With a sigh Brianne followed Toby up to the Captain's Quarters, what used to be her room. She entered the room and went straight to John, backhanding him. Before her hand hit his face, though, he grabbed it forcefully with his own hand. Brianne knew that there would be finger-shaped bruises on her wrist in the morning.

"What do you want?" she questioned as he let go of her wrist.

"What, no pleasantries?" John asked, smirking.

"You don't deserve them," Brianne told him, her chin tilted up in defiance.

"Well then, Miss Macki, I'll be straitforward. I had you brought up here so that I could give you one last chance to take my offer."

Not even half a second later she answered, "No."

"I can obviously tell that you would give anything to have this ship back. Why won't you leave without the lass? It's more than a fair trade."

"Hmm, let's see. Trade someone's life for a ship. I bloody think not!" She narrowed her eyes. "How can you possibly concieve the notion that I would leave Sara with you? You, who just a few moments ago, beat her to a bloody pulp. We'll be lucky if she regains consciousness this week!" Brianne was furious, and she could tell that she was wearing on John's patience. He must not really enjoy having Brianne screaming in his face.

"Why won't you even consider it?" When Brianne had came in the room, she knew he was already extremely angry, at Sara, she figured. Now he was raging, though he didn't lay a hand on her.

"Because you're an overbearing bastard, that's why," Brianne told him defiantly. John's eyes flashed, and he slapped her across the face, just hard enough to snap her head to the side.

"Take her out of here!" he snarled.

A guard grabbed her by both arms and roughly brought her back to the brig, shoving her in. "No need to be so rough," she retorted, but the man just went back up the stairs after locking her in.

Brianne sat down next to Sara, and looked at Elizabeth, who had been watching over her. "How is she?"

"How would you be?" Elizabeth snapped. "Sorry, that came off a bit harsher than it was meant to." She paused for a few moments. "What did he want?"

"He proposed the same deal as before. I declined," she told her shortly. The skin was stinging where he had slapped her, and she put her hand up and rubbed the spot. She eyed the rest of the crew. Gibbs and Cotton were in what looked like an extremely animated conversation, strange as it seems. She looked at Jack. He was laying down again with his hat covering most of his face.

"What 'appened t'yer face?" Brianne was surprised to find this comment coming from Jack. So much for being asleep.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"He slap ye?"

Brianne crossed her arms and glared at him. "Yes, he did. Ya happy?"

"What'd ye do to make him angry?"

It was really unnerving talking to Jack, looking like he was. "Could ye at least take yer hat off yer face if yer goin' t'talk to me?" Brianne asked.

Jack sat up, with a look on his face that asked, 'happy?'. "So answer the question."

"Oh, I just called 'im an overbearing bastard, tha's all."

"Ah."

"Brianne, can you help me with bandaging Sara? I'm thinking she'd be more comfortable with another girl doing it than me," Toby explained.

"Okay," she told him simply, and walked over to where Sara was, and kneeled down. While she was bandaging a cut on Sara's hip, probably there from being pushed down, she felt something like paper a little lower on the side of her leg. Brianne pulled it out and hid it quickly so she could look at it later. She finished bandaging up Sara and sat down where she was before in her corner. It was getting late and the rest of the crew was starting to fall asleep. Once she was fairly certain they were all asleep, she pulled out the paper she had found on Sara and opened it. It was map, with writing all around it, in a foreign language. There was some Latin, but it was just footnotes that didn't really mean anything without the other writing. The other writing wasn't Spanish, as Brianne could have recognized and read that. The map seemed to focus on Ireland, so possibly it was Gaelic. Wondering why Sara had kept this from her and the rest of the crew, she finally gave in to the deep desire she had to close her eyelids and go to sleep.

Brianne woke being pulled up by some unknown man. "Get up, cap'n wants t'see ye," he growled.

She sighed loudly. "Again, hell, he needs to get a bloody life," she mumbles sarcastically. All she got for it was being shoved more violently.

Once she got inside the captains quarters, she asked John very bluntly, "What the bloody hell do ye want now? I already told you I wasn't going along with your stupid trade, and that you might as well be talking to a wall because I'm not going to change my mind. Was two times already not enough? Ye needed a third time?" Brianne was not what you would call a morning person, and she was particularly angry that she has been woken up earlier than she would have gotten up normally.

John sighed slightly angrily. "Would you just shut up for once and let me talk?"

"No."

"Well in that case let me get straight to the point. You seem to not have any form of patience whatsoever. There is a new part of my offer. You have two choices: either you trade Sara for your ship, or you loose your ship forever," he said shortly.

"Define loose forever," Brianne told him.

"As in it will no longer be existant."

"I don't believe you, and either way, I'm not trading Sara for anything. You might as bloody well give up now."

"Then this conversation is pointless. Come with me." He grabbed her arm rather violently and dragged her to the main deck and across to the _Black Pearl._ His crew and the crew of the _Pearl_ were both over there. As they were walking John spoke to her. "Last night we took all of the supplies over to this ship. I had an inkling that you wouldn't be up for my offer."

Brianne was finally understanding the reality of what he was saying. They stopped a few paces in front of the crew of the _Pearl._

Brianne looked at John furiously. "Ye wouldn't."

He smiled synically. "I would."

"You don't want to do that. You don't want to destroy something that nice. The _Dawn_ is a magnificent ship," she added in desperation. She was trying to find the right words to stop him, at least make him hesitate, but at this point none could really come to mind.

"Actually, I do want to. I want to just to see the look on your face when your ship is blasted into tiny pieces. Because then you know that you'll never get it back. That's even worse then someone else having your ship. To know that your ship is destroyed is a terrible pain. Especially for you. That was your first ship, was it not? Custom design, if I remember what you told me correctly. Oh, yes, it's going to be mighty painful. I almost pity you." John sighed, then looked back at her with those cold eyes. "Unless of course you want to change your mind?"

"Never."

"I thought you'd say that."

"So what now, I watch you blow up my ship?" Brianne asked him angrily.

"I have an even better plan. How about I have you give the command to fire, Miss Macki?"

"And why exactly would I give that command?" Brianne demanded, trying to appear calmer than she felt. She feared it was failing.

"Because, Miss Macki, if you don't give that command, your darling little friend is going to be hurting far beyond what she is now. No, I won't kill her. Just hurt her enough to make her wish she was dead."

Brianne thought of Sara. She was still unconscious, battered and bruised. Brianne glanced at Jack. He was looking straight at her, looking as sorrowful as she had ever seen him. He was a captain; he knew her grief. Brianne knew she had to do it. She had to give the command that would tear her in two.

"Fine." She paused a moment. "Fire," Brianne said, but it was too low for anyone to hear. She took a shaky breath. _Why does this have to be so hard? Why do I have to say it again? Lord, help me. _She closed her eyes, and louder, she screamed, "Fire!" As she heard the sound of splintering wood she opened her eyes, and saw an image that would haunt her dreams. Cannons were firing, destroying the boat beyond recognition. Not being able to watch this any long, she took deliberate steps back towards where the crew was standing, not looking any of them in the eyes. She couldn't take it. When she heard the sound of the main mast falling, her knees gave out and she fell to the floor. She felt someone's arms around her, and at that moment, she didn't care that it was Jack's arms. Her head was against his chest, and she stared out at the sea, not sobbing, but still, tears were running down her face.

"I'm sorry, lass," he whispered. He couldn't find anything else to say that would have any real meaning, but hoped that those words were enough.

For the first time since she was fifteen, Brianne actually let someone hold her, comfort her, and tell her without words that everything would indeed be alright

Brianne vaguely remembered being lead back down to the brig, Jack's arm still around her. She was glad for this, because while she understood that later he was bound to make numerous comments about it, she also felt that if she wasn't being supported in some way she wouldn't be able to walk anywhere. At least, right now she wouldn't be able to.

When they reached the brig she fell against the far corner and slowly slid against the wall to the ground. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her arms around her knees, and rested her head on her arms. Her eyes were still open, just staring into space. She couldn't get the sound of the _Dawn_ exploding out of her head; she kept hearing wood splintering over and over again. Brianne felt Jack's arm slide around her back, and she fell against him, tears again silently running down her cheeks. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.

The next days were just a blur in Brianne's mind, and she lost track of them. She couldn't focus on anything, could barely eat, nothing seemed real and nothing really mattered. She was just doing the bare esentials to stay alive. Most of the days she spent sitting against the wall, eyes unfocused. Several times Jack tried to start conversations, but she hadn't spoken a word since the fatal "fire."

Loud commotion on the main deck brought her back into the real world. She looked through the small hole of a window and saw that another ship had lined up to the side of theirs. She heard a loud, confident voice followed by what sounded like John, and then several angry shouts. Vibrations went through the wood of the floor, and she assumed that the other ship was trying to take over the _Pearl_. 'This is exciting,' she thought sarcastically. She and the crew, being locked up in the brig, could do nothing but listen to what was going on.

Several minutes later, they saw a couple of men walking down the stairs. "Wait a minute," one of them said, "this isn't the armory!"

"Bad memory," Jack muttered.

The second man turned around and said the the first, "Look, we found the brig. And there's folks in it. We should go talk to the cap'n."

Without saying a word to the real crew of the _Pearl, _the second man nods to the first and they both head back up the stairs.

About five minutes afterward, another man comes down to the brig. Jack stands to meet him at the bars of the cell; Brianne figures this is the captain. He was moderately tall, with light red hair and brown eyes. He was wearing nondescript clothing; brown pants and scuffed boots with a baggy white shirt.

"Before you-" Jack had began, but the man cut him off.

"What happened to her!" he questioned with an unplaceable accent. He was staring directly at Sara.

"We all were taken prisoner an' it turned out the cap'n knew her . . . but she wouldn't do wha' he wanted her to, so he got rather violent, obviously," Jack replied, relating the tale in brief.

"And he took women on board besides the one lass he knew?" He seemed outraged at the idea.

"Aye. We don' really know what was between the lass and John, but it was enough that he took all of us as prisoners because of it."

He pulled out a ring of keys that Briane recognized as John's. After fiddling with a few of the keys, he found the right one to unlock the brig. As the door swung open, he extended his hand to Jack. "I'm Captain Aiden Thomas."

Jack grasped his hand firmly, replying, "Cap'n Jack Sparrow, nice to meet ye."

"Now let's get this lass on my ship, so she can get some proper care," Aiden told them. Quickly Jack, Will, and Gibbs carried Sara up the stairs towards the other ship, and the rest of the crew followed.

As they walked onto the new ship, Aiden said, "Welcome to the _Golden Wyvern_."


	10. Ch 8: Hidden Talents

A/N: Okay, so here's another chapter. To all those still reading…. Sorry for the delay! Brianne and I have been extremely busy lately and I'm afraid our writing got delayed, but no worries now! We're back at it and DETERMINED to finish before the third Pirates movie releases in May, so buckle down ye reviewers and enjoy the ride!

Also, for all ye French speakers out there... sorry if I butchered your language! I'm a third year student but, well, I'm American. Enough said. I tried to use as little as possible but if I got it all wrong bows please forgive me!

_"You think you've escaped me? You are only delaying the inevitable," John vowed. Sara shrank away from him, sitting on the ground in the mist as it curled around her, her head in her hands, trying to block him out._

_"Escaped you? I'll never escape you," she moaned._

_"I want that map, and I need your help," he announced angrily, "You can't hide from me, Sara."_

_"No, I can't, I can't…"_

Light again assaulted her eyes as she was awakened from her sleep. Her head still pounded, and she could barely find the strength to move. Her ribs hurt, and her body felt like one large bruise.

"Oh, ma tète," she muttered.

She almost choked when she realized that she had just muttered French when she hadn't spoken the language since she was sixteen years old in Louisiana. Why was she speaking it now? She moved over, her eyes still closed, and her heart froze when she felt sheets and blankets around her. If she opened her eyes and saw that she was again in John's room she felt for sure that she would die.

She opened her eyes minutely, but then all the way when she realized that she was not on the Midnight Dawn. The room was brighter, and the furniture was different. While John's cabin had been made of oak, it seemed that this one was cedar. There were rows of full bookshelves along the wall, and an open cedar chest with slats in it created a horizontal bookshelf full of bound sheaves of paper. She pulled one out, and opened the cover. It was a play. They were all plays. Notes were written in all of the margins in a neat, steady hand. It was obvious that either this captain was an actor, or he bought second-hand manuscripts.

The room also had a different feel to it. There was something laid back about it, something brighter then the Dawn. It also smelled better. The smell was so comforting and powerful to her that she felt herself relaxing.

"C'est très interressant," she commented. She hadn't spoken the French in so long, and now that she had again, she found herself grinning as the familiar syllables rolled off her tongue.

She placed the play back in the box, and rubbed her hand as she saw the bruise near her wrist. Memories again bombarded her, and she winced as she felt her ribs sting again. She knew that she looked awful. She was bruised all over, and her face was probably a nice shade of mottled green and yellow.

Sara gasped as the door knob turned, but before she could climb back into the bed in pretended sleep, the door opened. Brianne walked in, her eyes growing wide when she saw Sara sitting on the bed.

"Ye're awake!" Brianne called as she shut the door behind herself and walked toward Sara.

"Oui, I mean, yes," Sara corrected.

"French, hmm? Ye must really be groggy. I've never heard ye speak French before."

"I haven't spoken it in eleven years, but for some reason I woke up speaking it, and I think I like it," she answered.

Brianne stared at her for a moment, her face a displaying a bit of discomfort.

"Goodness, Sara, ye look bloody awful," she commented.

Sara hung her head a bit, and then smiled.

"I could always look worse, I could look like Jack," she pointed out.

"Sara, ye don' have to answer, but what happened? I know ye, I've seen ye fight, you should have had no trouble takin' a light-weight like him out," Brianne pointed out.

"It's hard to explain," Sara muttered. "I suppose I just didn't have the nerve to hurt him, especially not after what we've been through together."

"Ye still love him? After all he did!" Brianne exclaimed, her face an odd color of red. It was almost as if Sara had insulted her in some way.

"No, not in the least, I just can't hurt him. When I see him I remember what it had been like when we were in love, and it's like I'd be trying to kill some of the best memories I have," Sara tried to explain. Sensing that she was failing, she simply huffed and shrugged.

Brianne grunted.

"Well, if you won't, I will," she growled.

"Can we please talk about something else?" Sara sighed. "Maybe you could tell me where I am or what I'm doing here? This is not the Midnight Dawn, so what is it?"

Brianne oddly winced, as if Sara had grabbed an old wound. "Sara, a lot happened while you were unconscious," she responded as she stood up and turned away from Sara. "We were rescued. The ship was raided and the raiders turned out to be our saviors of sorts. They even took yer Samson and Toby along."

Sara felt a burst of relief, a feeling so strong that she reached out and grabbed Brianne's hand as hard as she could. "Really? You mean we're gone, truly gone?" Sara asked.

Brianne turned around in surprise and pulled her hand away. Sara's eyes were so wide and hopeful that it set her off balance for a moment.

"Yeah, I suppose so, but Sara, I wouldn't say he's gone forever," Brianne announced.

"I don't care how long we have, as long as I have enough time to get rid of the ma – wait a minute, where is it?" Sara exclaimed as she noticed that the map was missing. She was in all new clothes as well. She jumped off of the bed and started looking through the bookshelves and desk.

"You mean this?" Brianne asked as she held out the rolled parchment. Sara stopped dead in her tracks, and turned around slowly.

"Where did you get that?" Sara whispered.

"Sampson thought that you would feel more comfortable having a girl change your bandages, and I found it. When were you going to tell me?" she asked.

Sara immediately started trying to come up with a series of lies that would cover her tracks, but she noticed that Brianne's tone held no venom or anger, on the contrary, it seemed that her tone held understanding and curiosity. Sara took a moment to think. She realized after only a second or two that she wanted her to know the truth. She hadn't had someone to talk to since she was twelve and had confided in her grandfather. Before she knew it she had explained everything to Brianne, from the time she found the map, to what John had said about it.

"So you see, it has to be destroyed. If John got that kind of power, well, I don't even want to think about that," Sara sighed.

"Hmm, I had wondered why you wanted someone who knew Latin, but I hadn't guessed that it would be something like this. Are you sure you want to destroy it?"

"Are you crazy Macki? What else would I do with it?" Sara exclaimed.

"First of all, I am crazy, and second thing, why not beat him to it? I mean, think about it, he seems to want it, why not take it first?" Brianne stated a bit more passionately then Sara would have thought. "He took something he loved from you, why not take what he wants from him?"

"Why would I want to do that?" Sara asked, a bit confused by Brianne's statement.

"Why wouldn't you? Think about it, Sara, this is an ancient, powerful, sought-after treasure! I mean, look at this, even Romans were looking for it! And what was it John said? Immortality, treasure, doesn't that make you want to see it?" Brianne questioned.

"No, it doesn't. I want to see the map burned to embers and John get in whatever trouble he'll be in if he doesn't get the treasure," Sara commented.

"What better a way t'show him that you're not his punching bag anymore then to get his prize before he does?" Brianne demanded.

"Brianne, please don't do this. Just let me get rid of this map. Please," Sara pled.

"Sara, there's, uh, one little thing that I haven't mentioned to you yet," Brianne stated. "This map is of Ireland."

"Yeah, I knew that," Sara replied.

"That's not what I haven't told you. Sara, we're in Ireland."

"What?" Sara interjected.

"Well, not in it, necessarily, but close to it, and that's where we're heading," Brianne informed Sara.

"You told this new Captain to sail us to Ireland? How long have I been out anyway?"

"Actually, John was already heading to Europe, and it turns out that Aiden - "

"Aiden?"

"That's the captain's name. Well, he's Irish and was going home anyway."

Sara suddenly felt the familiar cold sting of loneliness in her heart. Brianne wanted to go after this treasure, but there was no way Sara was going to Ireland. If John knew that the treasure was there, then he would go, whether he had the map or not, and she was not going to risk running into him again. She was going to find a way to leave, and she had to distance herself from everyone unless she wanted her heart to break again.

"Oh, well, all right then. If that's all you have to say, do you think I could get some sleep please?" Sara asked.

Brianne had sensed Sara's sudden detachment, and Sara knew it, but there was nothing else she could do. She knew right away that leaving Brianne and Gibbs and everyone else would be hard, she didn't even know if she could do it, but she had to. Or maybe she could convince Brianne to leave with her…

"Yes, of course. You must be tired. I'll tell everyone not to disturb you," Brianne remarked suspiciously, tucking the map into her own belt as she turned toward the door.

"Thank you," Sara responded, and then she got back in the bed and fell asleep only minutes later with troubled thoughts running through her head.

The next time she awakened, it was entirely of her own accord. No one was waking her up, no one wanted her attention; she was totally free to sleep or get up as she wished. She liked the feeling and she felt like lying in bed awhile simply to take advantage of this new peace. She was about to sit up a bit, when she heard a shuffling off to her right. She opened her eyes a sliver, hoping to see Brianne again, but it was a stranger that drew her attention. A tall, red-haired man quietly leafed through the books on the bookshelf only feet away from where Sara was sleeping. He pulled one out, and wiped the dust off of the cover.

"Bloody dust bunnies," he grunted.

She tried very hard to suppress a laugh as he grabbed a few more books and started going through one of the drawers in the desk. She knew right away that he was the Captain; it was in his walk and in his stance. There was also something else in that bearing, but she couldn't quite place it. He pulled out a map, looked it over for a moment, found another one, and took it all under his arm. He then turned around and looked down at her for a moment. She discreetly closed her eyes even tighter so he wouldn't know that she had been awake. After a moment she felt the blanket drawn up under her chin, and she listened to him walk out of the room, closing the door softly behind him as he went.

The moment he was gone she sat up. She suddenly wondered how long she had been taking up that man's room. Where had he slept the entire time? It must not have been long, for he still treated her like she needed to be helped. Jack had gotten tired of Brianne and her taking over his room after the first night. What would happen when this new man grew annoyed with her? She suddenly felt as if she had to get out of that room and do something useful or she'd burst.

She stood in front of the mirror and tried to make herself look a little more presentable then she had before. Her hair was sticking out at every angle, and her clothes were mussed. She combed her fingers through her hair and re-tied it back. She grimaced at her clothes and walked over to the closet. She looked through the Captain's shirts, but she couldn't bring herself to change her outfit.

For once in her life, she felt grateful to a complete stranger and didn't want to disturb something of his. She didn't know if it was because this new captain let everyone on his ship, had given up his room, and had made sure she felt better, or if it was simply the act of pulling the blanket up under her chin; but whatever it was she did feel grateful. She didn't want to get to know him, however. She was afraid of having her pleasant illusion of him ruined. She wouldn't go out of her way to annoy him, however.

After trying her best to smooth out her clothes, and after grimacing at the bruises that appeared in her reflection, she stepped out of the room, and out onto the deck.

"Come on, Aiden, why not?" a man shouted.

"I'm not an actor anymore, Nate, and you should know it better then everyone else," the Aiden announced as he stepped away from the Captain's wheel.

"Not professionally, sir, but I also know that you love to show-off, and you have an audience for once that has never heard you speak before. You can't resist it for long," Nate countered.

"He's right, Captain, you never left your performing side behind, give us a speech!" a young sailor near the ratlines yelled.

"Come on, Captain!"

"Yeah, come on!" the rest of the crew shouted.

"All right, all right, all right. But only a short one," Aiden acquiesced. A cheer went up throughout the crew. "Okay, what do you want to hear?"

Brianne, who was standing on the main deck, was the first to notice Sara standing beside the door at that point.

"Ye know anything from 'Cyrano?'" Brianne asked. Sara felt a grin tug at her lips as Aiden turned towards Brianne.

"Rostand, right?" he inquired. Brianne shrugged.

"How many other Cyranos are there?" she questioned. The captain nodded, and then seemed to think for a moment before starting to speak.

"What would you have me do? Seek for the patronage of some great man, and like a creeping vine on a tall tree crawl upward, where I can not stand alone? No thank you! Dedicate, as others do, poems to pawnbrokers? Be a buffoon in the vile hope of teasing out a smile on some cold face? No thank you! Eat a toad for breakfast every morning? Make my knees callous and cultivate a supple spine, wear out my belly groveling in the dust? No thank you! Scratch the back of any swine that roots up gold for me? Tickle the horns of Mammon with my left hand, while my right too proud to know his partner's business, takes in the fee? No thank you! Use the fire that God gave me to burn incense all day long under the nose of wood and stone? No thank you!"

Aiden played the part of proud Cyrano speaking of why he never sought out a patron nearly to perfection, the words rolling off of his tongue just as she imagined Cyrano to speak when Sara read the words herself. She was grinning now, mouthing the words along with him as he fell into his part.

"Or to change form, navigating with madrigals for oars, my sails full of sighs of dowagers? No thank you! Publish verses at my own expense? No thank you! Be the patron Saint of a small group of literary souls who dine together every Tuesday? No, I thank you! Shall I labor night and day to build a reputation on one song and never write another? Shall I find true genius only among geniuses, palpitate over little paragraphs, and struggle to insinuate my name in the columns of the Mercury? No, thank you! Calculate scheme, be afraid, love more to make a visit then a poem, seek introductions, favors, influences? No thank you! No thank you! And again, I thank you!" he shouted the last line, causing sweeps of cheers to come from the sailors.

Sara could take it no longer. No matter how masterfully this man could represent her Cyrano, she couldn't simply stand and watch. So, before he could take up the speech again, Sara interrupted, stepping forward a bit.

"But to sing, to laugh, to dream, to walk in my own way and be alone, free, with an eye to see things as they are, a voice that means manhood – to cock my hat over one eye if I choose – at a word, a Yes, a No. To fight – or write. To travel any road under the sun, under the stars, nor doubt if fame or fortune lie beyond the Bourne," Sara said the words with less skill as Aiden, but the crew went silent and stared at her, under her spell as much as they had been under Aiden's. "Never to make a line I have not heard in my own heart; yet, with all modesty, to say 'my soul, be satisfied with flowers, with fruit, with weeds even; but gather them in the one garden you may call your own.' So, when I win some triumph, by some chance, render no share to Caesar. In a word, I am too proud to be a parasite, towering to heaven like the mountain pine, or like oak, sheltering multitudes. I stand, not high it may be – but alone!"

The ship was silent as they stared from Sara to their Captain, and back to Sara. After a few moments, they all erupted into applause.

"Well, it looks like ye found a kindred spirit, cap'n!" Nate shouted.

"I suppose so. Are you an actress?" the Captain asked.

"No, I simply love the story of Cyrano. I'm sorry if I ruined your show," she announced.

"No, that part had to be softer anyway. I never played a good Cyrano, my family had me play Christian more then anyone else when we performed Rostand's masterpiece. They said my red hair conveyed passion, but I just think it was because I was the only one young enough to play the part," he chuckled.

"I thought you said that you were done with the stage," Nate teased.

"Learn this now, Nate. I may be young, but I do know that when a pretty girl asks any man anything, not even the Captain can resist talking her ear off about it." A younger sailor, only about sixteen years old, jumped down out of the ratlines and walked across the deck. Sara looked the youth over, something strangely familiar in his light brown hair and soft face. He was good looking, but far too young for any woman on board the ship. He was probably a cabin boy of sorts. Still, his face was so familiar… "Still, I suppose we should all be thanking ya miss. No one's shaken the Captain out of his shell quite like you have in quite a while."

The lad took her hand and kissed it in 'thanks.' Sara immediately pulled her hand away and took a step back from the men. A sudden fear gripped her heart and, though she knew that it was completely irrational, she didn't feel comfortable anymore.

"Are you all right Miss?" Nate asked.

"Yeah. Your accent, it's very familiar. Where are you from?" Sara inquired in an attempt to change the subject.

"Haiti. I grew up speaking French," he informed her.

"Parlez-vous le français?" Sara questioned.

His eyes lit up and he smiled. "Ah, oui! Est-ce que tu vis en France?"

"Non, mais je vivais en France quand j'etais jeune."

"Ah, je comprend."

They both looked at each other and chuckled.

"I'm sorry for my accent, it's been years," Sara remarked.

"It has been quite some time for me as well. I'm afraid my accent has gotten rusty to."

"Ah, Kendal, ye're monopolizin' all of the new men," Brianne laughed as she walked towards them.

"We were just talking to your friend here, miss. There aren't many French speaking, play quoting, pirates on the sea," Aiden announced.

"And what are you doin' here, kid? You don't look like the type to appreciate languages and plays," Brianne questioned.

"Oh, I'm here 'cause she's cute," Boy stated.

Sara felt as if she had been slapped in the face. She took a step away from the crowd and tried to fight the urge to run. What was she feeling? Why did she suddenly feel like screaming? Brianne looked at her strangely and noticed the fear in her friend's eyes, even if she didn't understand what was wrong.

"Hey, Kendal, why don't I show ye where we're sleepin'?" Brianne suggested.

"Yeah, that would be good," Sara answered promptly, and then walked off with Brianne away from what had made her so uncomfortable.

"I don' believe it," Jack's bewildered voice filled the room. Sara couldn't help but grin a bit at the looks she knew she was receiving. For the first time in at least a year she was doing chores of her own choice. She had taken about an hour and had cleaned the galley from top to bottom. It wasn't too bad to begin with, it seemed this new Captain kept his ship fairly clean, but she had still been able to make it better. She was drying the dishes and placing them back up in the cupboard when Brianne had come down for a snack. She had stared in shock for a moment, and then Jack came down for who knew what. Now it was his turn to stare.

"Excuse me, you're standing in front of the cupboard for pots," Sara told Jack. When he simply continued to stare dumbly at her, she nudged him aside and put the pots in the cupboard. She then placed the wash rag into the water bucket, and looked back at her friend and Mr. Crow.

"What are you staring at?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

"You never did chores on me ship," Jack pointed out.

"I was never on your ship, Mr. Raven, and I don't usually do chores on my own. I just felt like doing something, and I didn't exactly see anyone forbidding me from doing this, so…"

"So you did chores. You actually did chores," Jack muttered.

"Yes," Sara grumbled, and then pushed her way through Jack and Brianne and walked up to the main deck, finally sick of their shocked expressions.

Sara walked to the railing on the starboard side and rested her arms on it as she stared at the ocean. She had told the truth, she did want something to do. Brianne and Jack had been working as normal; the entire crew was working Aiden's ship like it was the Pearl. Even Elizabeth had found a job in mending the sailor's torn clothes. Aiden had forbidden Sara from doing anything, however. He "didn't want her to hurt herself." It was all nonsense, she could work just as well as everyone else; a few bruises weren't going to stop her. She couldn't fight with the new Captain, however. It was this fact that haunted her the most, the true reason that she had been cleaning. She felt she owed him something. It was completely unreasonable, but she did. She didn't want to make him angry or make his life difficult. She hated this feeling, hated it with every fiber of her being.

"What were ye really doin' down there?" Brianne asked as she walked up behind Sara.

"I already told you," she grumbled.

"No one does the dishes voluntarily, it's unnatural. Now I'm thinking all of this sleep ye've been getting lately has slowed your brain, or ye weren't tellin' the whole truth earlier," Brianne announced.

"It must be the sleep one," Sara responded.

"Are you both all right?"

Brianne and Sara turned around to see Aiden, his red hair tied back neatly and his demeanor casual.

"Yes," Sara quickly answered. Brianne nodded in return, and Aiden returned to his work. The instant he had turned his back to them, Brianne elbowed Sara in the side.

"Ye like him?" she inquired with a grin.

"No," Sara told her. "Do you?"

"Eh, he's nice enough to look at I guess, but he's not my type. He's too – too – I don't know, sweet? Too much like a gentleman. More your type, really," Brianne hinted again.

"I don't have a 'type.' I'm not exactly a good judge of character," Sara admitted.

"Why, because ye made one mistake? Tons of guys are jerks, ye know. No one is right all the time," Brianne assured her.

"Not everyone is so wrong all the time either," Sara sighed.

"What do ye mean all the time? How many times have you tried? Two? Three? You know how many times I've tried?"

"How many," Sara questioned.

"I don't know either! Yer still green when it comes ta relationships, Sara. Give more guys a chance."

"Don't take it personally if I don't follow your advice," Sara sighed as she looked back out at the sea.

"Hey, ladies, what's going on?" Boy walked up to them and wrapped one arm around each of their shoulders. Both women rolled their eyes and pulled away from him.

"Boy! Get over here and scrub the deck, I can actually see the brine putting holes in the wood!" Aiden shouted.

"Captain!" Boy groaned in exasperation. "I'm meeting the new ladies!"

"Boy, they're too old for you. If, by some miracle, you can get one of them to speak for you then you can stay," Aiden retorted. Boy looked to Brianne and Sara who simultaneously became very interested in how blue the sky was.

"Aw, you girls are going to make me cynical before my time," he grumbled as he grabbed a bucket of water and a rag and walked towards the opposite end of the ship.

"All pirates should be cynical, we're donating to the experiences that will shape you as a human being!" Sara shouted out at him. Boy rolled his eyes in that way that only sixteen year olds can, gave a grin and a wink, and then began removing the offending brine.

"Gosh, he's the Jack of the future, isn't he?"

"Who?" Jack asked as he wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders just as Boy had. Sara grabbed her nose and groaned loudly as she pulled away from him.

"Burn my nose off, why don't you? When did you last bathe?" Sara demanded.

"And what about you, Brianne?" Jack inquired with a grin.

"Move your arm or you won't have one anymore," Brianne announced with an innocent smile.

"Well, someone got up on th' wrong side o'her bunk this morning," Jack stated as he removed his arm.

"Aw, now, who can be unhappy on a day like this?" Boy asked as he sat on the railing.

"What's so special about today?" Sara demanded, "And aren't you supposed to be scrubbing the deck?"

"Why, it's a party night, and I'm not talking about the deck right now," he remarked.

"Wha's a party night?" Jack asked with extreme interest in his eyes.

"What's it sound like! It's a night when we drop anchor, relax, and have a good time. Cap'n likes to have them every once in a while, you know, boost the crew's spirits and all," Boy explained. Jack grinned.

"A party, huh? Like wit' dancing and rum and singin' and did I mention rum?" he inquired.

"A lot a' singing and dancing, though not all that much rum. The cap'n doesn't allow it on the ship, though a lot of the crew have their own private stashes," Boy laughed.

"He don' allow rum on the ship? Why no'?" Jack asked. Boy shrugged.

"Aiden wants you to finish your job," a tall girl of almost twenty with red hair told Boy in a bit of an annoyed voice.

"Hey Deirdre, looking forward to the party tonight?" Boy asked as he draped his arm around Deirdre's shoulders. "Maybe we could dance together or something?" Deirdre simply glared at him and elbowed him hard in the stomach. Sara hid a snicker behind her hand as Deirdre walked away and Boy nearly fell to the ground as he doubled over and tried to catch his breath. "Yeah, I'll see you then!"

Sara stared up at the ceiling above her bed in the small room that she shared with Brianne. It was nearing the middle of the night and the party had been going on for hours. It seemed that the new crew had quite a few talented musicians. Fiddles, spoons, singers, and even a flutist mixed with the steady pounding of dancers that had filled the night air since before sundown. Sara had thought once or twice about going up and enjoying the party, but those thoughts had quickly been shattered when she thought about her circumstances. If she went up there and enjoyed herself, then she might befriend someone. She didn't want to get to know these people. If anything she would be happy if they hated her and marooned her on the next island they came across. She wanted to leave them; she wanted them to be safe.

Her thoughts were interrupted by three sharp knocks on her door. She sat up from her bed, ruffled her hair a bit, and closed her eyes slightly in the hope that whoever was on the other end of the door would think she had been sleeping and would leave her alone. The door opened without Sara's permission, and Elizabeth walked in, holding Brianne by one arm. She didn't seem any happier then Sara. She grunted and pulled her arm away from Elizabeth and stared crossly at the wall.

"You to? I found Brianne sulking about the galley, and now Sara's in the room? Why aren't you two on the main deck having some fun?"

"Do you know how fast the ceiling shakes when you're dancing to a minuet up there?" Sara asked absentmindedly.

Brianne snorted a bit, but Elizabeth didn't seem all that amused. "I know that everything has been horrible lately, but a nice night may make things infinitely better."

"And yet I still don't feel the need to go anywhere," Sara huffed.

"I agree," Brianne remarked.

Elizabeth huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I didn't want to threaten you both with this, but if you don't get up there of your own accord, then I'll get Jack down here and he'll help me carry both of you to the deck."

"Well then you'll find his bloody stinking corpse lying across Brianne's," Sara commented.

"Why mine?" Brianne announced.

"Because I'm not letting his bloody corpse rot on my bed," she remarked.

Brianne grinned. "Ye know, it wouldn't be a bad idea to kill 'im now, but I don't want to sleep in a bed covered with his blood… Well, maybe we can kill him later and dump his body overboard."

"Both of you are absolutely unbearable!" Elizabeth groaned.

"I don't want to go up there," Sara announced. "I have a headache."

"You're a liar, Sara, and a bad one at that. Now I want both of you to spend at least one hour up there. After that, you can go back to being miserable with my blessing."

Sara looked to Brianne and sighed. Elizabeth wouldn't leave them alone unless they complied. Brianne rolled her eyes as Elizabeth grabbed Brianne's arm once more and began leading her up to the party.

Sara laid back again, thinking that she could escape Elizabeth. As they left, however, Brianne reached down and grabbed Sara's hair. She yelped and fell out of her bed, grumbling as she was pulled up to the party as well.

Aiden Thomas stood at the Captain's wheel and watched his crew dance around the deck with a slight grin on his face. Though he rarely admitted it, he missed his old life with his family traveling as entertainers. He missed the endless practices in the numerous theatres of Europe, missed pulling his sister's long, auburn hair up under one of the musty old wigs that his mother kept in her costume trunk and the feel of the candles and lights beaming down on him as he took to the stage as a new person every night. He even missed the oily, vile smell of the thick, white face-paint that every actor wore to make themselves visible to the audience. No matter how much he missed the life of an actor, however, he knew that he would miss the life of a pirate twice as much. Still, these random parties did lift his spirits as much as it entertained the crew.

"Hey, quite the party ye got goin' out there," Jack commented as he walked towards the new captain, his stride slightly off center from the sips of rum he had received out of the few hidden flasks that were hoarded like gold. He hadn't had enough to get properly drunk, but enough that he was able to thoroughly enjoy himself.

"It is a good one. The boys haven't had one in such a long time that they're desperate to make this memorable," Aiden stated.

"Well, I was just noticin', Mr. Thomas, that ye don' seem t'be enjoying yerself at all. I saw ye this morning, ye like attention. Why aren't ye down there havin' some fun?" Jack inquired as he leaned back against the rail and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm not really in the mood today. You may think that I adore the attention, Mr. Sparrow, but I like watching things even more. If you're truly worried about my happiness, please don't be," Aiden commented.

"Well, I suppose that wasn't exactly why I came up here."

"How did I guess that?" Aiden mumbled.

"I was just noticin' this morning that ye were – are ye even payin' attention to me?"

Aiden wasn't paying much attention to Jack at all, for his eyes had again been caught by someone in the new crew: the small blonde woman with all of the bruises and cuts on her face. She was being pulled out onto the deck by the other woman, Brianne, who had her hair firmly clasped in one hand. Aiden continued to watch her as she walked towards the railing and sat on the ground, obviously in defiance of having any fun. There was something familiar about her, the way she moved, something that he couldn't quite recognize.

"What did you say?" Aiden inquired as he remembered the man near him.

"What are ye lookin' at?" Jack inquired. Aiden jumped slightly and took a step away from the Captain's helm, for Jack had walked right behind him in an attempt to follow Aiden's gaze. Aiden was beginning to wonder if this other man had any idea of how uncomfortable he could make people by standing too close to them.

"Ah, I see now. A word o' advice, of all the women to be eye'n Miss Sara's probably the last woman ye'd want to look at. She's violent, a little demon I'm sure of it. Another thing, she isn't interested in bein' with anyone. She'll punch ye in the face before she'd even think of kissin' ya," Jack explained.

"I wasn't 'eyeing' her like that; I just wanted to know what happened to her. She looks a lot better then she did when we brought her aboard, but she still looks like she's in a bit of pain. Why would someone hurt a woman like that?"

"I dunno," Jack remarked, "but any man who'd steal my ship like that gent did must be pure evil."

"That was your ship?"

"Aye, and I'm gonna get her back. I worked too hard to get her back before to have her stolen again."

"Really? What happened?"

"And then I pulled meself free from the noose and, with a little help from the Turner chap, took down the royal navy with naught but the rope that they had been tryin' to hang me with," Jack finished. He had been talking for quite some time, though Aiden had stopped listening a bit ago. Sara was still sitting against the railing, though she was now joined by the young Toby, the one who claimed to be her cousin, the healer Sampson, and a few of the men from his own crew. "Are ye ignorin' me again?"

"Hmm?" Aiden muttered. Jack looked back onto the deck.

"Are ye starin' at Sara again? Ye know, yer really bad at hidin' yer feelings. If ye like her so much, go talk to her," Jack announced.

"I already told you that I don't like her that way, I just worry about her a bit," he replied.

Jack sighed, strolled towards the tall red-haired Captain and put his arm around his shoulders. "Mr. Thomas, it looks like yer in need of a bit of advice from the man with all the answers about the ladies," Jack commented.

"And who would that be?" Aiden asked in a bored, slightly annoyed voice. Jack indicated himself and grinned.

"Yers truly," he announced. Aiden rolled his eyes.

"You have all the answers?" he questioned.

"Yep."

"Then what would you suggest?" Aiden asked with a slightly mocking grin, the look on his face conveying the mindset of 'this will be quite hilarious.' Jack, being a bit tipsy, didn't notice the look of sarcasm on the other Captain's face, and continued as if he were serious.

"Ye jus' got to go up an tell th' girl that ye like her, maybe kiss her. She may become all incensed at yer bein' so forward, but it'll work out in th' end," he commented. Aiden nearly laughed. He didn't know if Jack was telling him this in the hopes that he would make a fool of himself or if he was serious.

"I take it you've been slapped quite a few times," Aiden muttered.

"Once or twice," Jack responded.

"I thank you for the advice, Mr. Sparrow, but I'm afraid my style is a bit different. When I happen to like a particular lady I have a tendency to get to know her before I act on my feelings," he commented. Jack sighed heavily and rolled his eyes in a drunken way.

"If all ye do is wait then ye'll never get 'er in yer arms."

"Perhaps that's not as important as gaining a friend," Aiden remarked.

His eyes again strayed to the woman sitting on the ground. She looked up at him quickly, her blue eyes dulled, almost lifeless. He looked farther into them and found that they were walled off. She was keeping herself distant from everyone around her. What had happened to her? How could he help?

"Hey Cap'n! Come dance for us!" one of the crew mates shouted.

"Not today, I'm just watching!" he called back. Sara stood up and started to walk towards the bunks again. It was then that he understood what was so familiar about this Lady. He grinned slightly as a plan formed in his mind. "Actually I changed my mind. I'm coming!"

The crew cheered loudly as the new Captain stepped down from the wheel and walked to the middle of the dance floor.

"Strike up the music boys for yer in for a treat. Our world-famous cap'n has agreed to entertain us with a few dance moves," a crew member shouted.

Sara turned and faced the gathered crowd and watched the Captain. He sauntered onto the middle of the deck and laughed as someone clapped him on the back and said something to him that Sara couldn't hear. Sara instantly felt a kind of anger rise in her. She was already in a foul mood before Brianne had pulled her up to the deck, and the noise had only made her even more upset. She was retreating back into her room to clear her mind, and now this. The instant she saw Aiden standing in the center of the crowd she was reminded of another man that once smiled that way; that stood in the same fashion and entertained the crowd as this man did. It infuriated her that he would bring back those memories, whether he meant to or not.

In an instant the crew separated, creating a large circle around their captain. The music started slow and eerie, one of the fiddlers seemed to own a violin as well. The captain moved gracefully around the circle like a phantom, his movements matching the music perfectly until he seemed to be a part of it, an image created by sound. Suddenly, the music picked up in speed, the rhythm flying out of the violin like a whirlwind. The captain moved faster, matching footfall for note, his feet were almost impossible to follow, his arms circled around his head until he seemed to be the wind itself, his every feature flying through the air. He now controlled the music; he was the master of this artistic storm. He flew across the deck in this fashion, capturing everyone's complete attention and holding it as he held the music. The music went on this way for a few more minutes until it came to a complete stop, as did Aiden. Everyone on board cheered loudly as Aiden bowed low and took a moment to catch his breath. The anger boiled in Sara again. She knew that this man had done nothing to hurt her, on the contrary, he had helped her, but she didn't quite care. He was so much like John had been, so much like her old friend that she couldn't help but think of him, and that made her want to show this man up. She wanted to challenge him, to win. She wanted to beat him at something. As the crowd cheered Sara stepped forward a bit.

"You call that dancing? I've seen better in children's dancing academies!" she shouted. It was part way true; the instructor at the school near her childhood home had been a master. As it was, everyone grew silent and stared at her. Aiden grinned slightly.

"What do you mean?" he inquired lightly.

"Your frame was a bit weak near the middle, you missed three beats after the violin quickened its pace, and you hesitated before the end. There were several other mistakes, but most of them were too small to mention," she answered. The deck remained silent as they waited for Aiden's response.

"If you can do better I'd like to see it," he announced. Sara hesitated a bit. His words were challenging, almost angry, but there was no anger in his voice, no malice in his expression. She decided to ignore this fact and take his challenge. She wanted to out do this man. The crew cheered as she pulled off her boots and tossed them aside. She walked towards him and launched into a series of quick, graceful, perfectly rhythmic series of complicated steps. She was graceful, she knew she was, and every bit as flowing as he had been. As she came to a smooth stop the crew broke into applause as well. She had been surprised a how well she had done. She hadn't danced since she was a child.

"Where did ye learn that, Kendal?" Brianne asked as she walked towards her and clapped her on the shoulder.

"What, you don't think a pirate lass can dance?"

"Not ballet. Where'd ye learn it?" she prodded.

Sara ignored her and began to walk away again. She had done enough. She had upstaged him, and that had satisfied her strange desire for revenge. She just wanted to go to sleep now.

"Hey, ye can't leave now! We've got a true battle going here!" Boy shouted to her. The crew agreed.

"What do you mean?" Sara demanded.

"I believe they mean that they found us equally entertaining and they want to find out who is the best," Aiden laughed. Sara scowled. She hadn't wanted to turn this into anything big, she wanted to go to bed.

"I don't think so. I'm tired. You can all continue your little games but I'm done," Sara announced and then began to walk down the stairs again.

"What, are you scared?" Aiden questioned. Sara stopped and walked towards him until she was only a few inches from his face.

"Scared of what, Mr. Thomas? Of you? I believe I proved that I'm at the very least your equal, what have I to be afraid of?"

"You are a wonderful ballet dancer, true, but I believe that the sign of a true master is the mastery of multiple forms of dance. If you can't do anything else…"

"I can do anything you can and I can do it better," she challenged. The crew sent up whoops of excitement as the musicians again raised their instruments. Aiden bowed low to her mockingly, his hands out at his sides. She did nothing but grin evilly. The rules were simple; they didn't even need to be voiced allowed. You lost if you couldn't keep up.

"What kind of music do you want?" one of the musicians asked with a chuckle. Aiden looked at Sara expectantly.

"I told you I could do anything you could. You pick the music," Sara commented.

Aiden nodded and walked towards the musicians. He whispered something to the lead musician and then walked back to Sara. He put out his hand and she took it. She felt a bit uneasy as his hand rested on her waist, but the feeling disappeared as she heard the music begin. She grinned as she heard the soft Spanish rhythm that would soon erupt into one of the most difficult and beautiful dancing music in the world.

"You just made a very big mistake, Mr. Thomas," Sara remarked.

"And what is that, miss Kendal?" he asked.

"Ballet was my second best style," was all she said before the music started.

Sara stood on the pads of her feet, her heels off the ground, as Aiden began to lead her around the floor. He tried a series of quick steps but she kept up easily. He was trying to discern her abilities. The music was fast and vibrant, it filled Sara's veins like blood and she responded to it naturally. It seemed it was the same for him, for the moves he tried became harder, more powerful, and more complex. She never once faltered. She followed everything he lead her into, and she challenged him to keep going. She was waiting to sense a weakness in him, something she could play on to make him falter. He kept her close most of the time, but would suddenly spin her out or into turns so fast she almost had to simply twirl with her feet flat on the ground. She continued to look for the small weaknesses he had shown before, the slight hesitations, the missed beats, but they seemed to have disappeared. She began to try to exhaust him, he was taller then she was and should have run out of energy sooner, but no matter how fast she moved or how intricate she made the steps he continued to stay with her. As the song rose into its climax, Sara began to forget winning the contest; she forgot that she was even in one to begin with. She became intoxicated by the rhythm as it invaded her system and took control of her like she was no longer in control. She had never had a partner that matched her as perfectly as Aiden did, and she found herself enjoying that. It was then that she became acutely aware of all the people watching her, and instead of frightening her, this fact awoke in her a desire to put on a show, to entertain. She smiled widely and Aiden seemed to read her mind, for he nodded, and quite suddenly lifted her high into the air over his head in a move that was so ballet-oriented she nearly laughed. She heard the crews scream and hoot louder then they had before as Aiden brought her back to the ground and they began to dazzle their audience together. The dancing became even more spectacular as both pirates tried not to out-do each other, but to match each other. Sara truly laughed for the first time in over a decade, and she found it quite liberating; she was almost sad to hear the music coming to an end.

Every onlooker shouted and applauded until their throats were sore as the music ended and Sara and Aiden stopped dancing. Aiden had ended the dance in a low dip, she was nearly on the floor, his right hand closed in her left hand, and his arm wrapped around her waist, his hand just beneath the back of her neck to support her, her right arm was wrapped around his neck. They were both breathing heavily, sweat dripped into their eyes as he pulled her back up to a standing position. Sara rested her head on his shoulder for a moment to catch her breath, but suddenly pulled away from him when she realized what had happened. She looked at him again as she had before and saw John in him as strongly as ever. She felt her face pale as she felt the shadows of where his arms had been around her waist. She ran her hand through her hair to hide how badly it was shaking.

"Touché, Miss Kendal, I think you won," Aiden chuckled.

She tried to come up with a reply to his comment, anything would do, but her throat had gone dry and she could say anything. She just wanted to leave, to get away from him and everyone else. She nodded simply, and then turned to leave. She didn't make it past the crew, however, before she had to begin fighting through all of the people that wanted to compliment and praise her. She nearly screamed for them to leave her alone when she finally broke through the wall of admirers and raced back down into her room.

"Good job, Mr. Thomas," Jack complimented as everyone was swarming Sara.

"Thank you," Aiden stated, though once again his thoughts weren't with the other captain. As he pulled his attention away from Sara, he grinned. "I see my way works, however."

"Wha' do ye mean?" Jack asked.

"I wasn't forward with her at all, and I still got her in my arms," he smiled, and then walked back into his cabin. Jack chuckled, and walked back towards his crew.

Sara ran into her room and slammed the door behind her back. She sat in the corner near her bed with her knees against her chest and tried to stop shaking.

"What's wrong with me? He's not John, he will never be John. What's wrong with me?" she kept repeating over and over again. She felt like screaming, like sneaking up to the main deck, stealing a small rowboat, and leaving as fast as she could. She was seriously contemplating doing just that when the door knob turned. She retreated back into the corner as far as she could and buried her head in her arms in the hope that whoever it was wouldn't see her. Again she had no luck.

"What are ye doin' down there?" Brianne asked as she shut and locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. Sara ignored her. "Ye looked really great tonight. I didn' know ye could do that."

"Can we please go to sleep? I'm exhausted," Sara responded.

"Yer gonna sleep while huddled up like that on the floor?" Brianne questioned.

"Yes, exactly, now leave me alone," Sara grumbled.

"Well someone's in a bad mood. Wha's wrong, Sara? I'm not gonna listen to yer little excuses anymore," Brianne announced, "Now what's wrong?"

"Brianne, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I don't want to talk about anything right now."

"Sara - "

"No, Brianne! I believe that we're friends, or at least as close to friends as pirates can be, but you have to remember that we haven't known each other long no matter what we've been through together. You're not my mother; you're not even related to me, so don't tell me that I have to talk to you when I don't want to!"

"Well fer cryin' out loud I didn' mean nothin' by it, and I didn't expect ye t' bite me head off over it."

"Well then listen to me next time," Sara announced. An uncomfortable silence filled the room and a slight feeling of guilt at snapping at Brianne started to form in her stomach. She suddenly couldn't take the quiet anymore and she stood up and left. Brianne didn't stop her.

After throwing such a wild party it was interesting to see that the crews could clean up and leave so quickly. The deck was absolutely quiet; the only noise came from the slow creaking of the ship and the gentle lapping of waves against the hull. Sara looked around quickly, making sure that she was alone, and then she walked towards the railing of the ship in search of a small rowboat. She wasn't going to leave right away, but she wanted to know where they were just in case she decided to leave quickly. It didn't take her long to find the little vessel and move the oilcloth off of the top to see what was inside. A small supply of rations was stowed away under the seats as well as a set of paddles, a blanket, and three large jugs of water. She was looking for a strand of rope when her stomach began to ache.

She ignored the feeling, assuming that it was simply because she had eaten next to nothing during the day. She continued the hunt for the rope when the pain began to grow. It was as if someone had stabbed her and was in the process of twisting the blade. She gasped and held her waist as the pain began to spread. Tears came to her eyes as she tried to stand, hoping that she was simply having a muscle cramp from dancing so hard earlier, but the pain increased steadily even once she had straightened her muscles. She felt like screaming, but she couldn't move her mouth. It was then that she felt strong hands surround her neck and begin to pinch off her air supply. She tried to pull the fingers off of her neck but, to her surprise, they weren't there. No one was touching her, yet she distinctly felt the hands around her throat. As the world began to spin, her legs gave out from underneath her and she fell to the ground. Shadows began to creep into her line of sight as she started to pass out when she felt a warm breath near her ear.

"You're not safe, little miss Kendal. We will find you. You can only run for so long," a soft, harsh voice hissed. The voice was completely foreign to her, and completely evil.

She again tried to move the invisible fingers off of her neck when she faintly heard a slamming sound in the distance followed by a soft pounding. The hands around her neck disappeared and the pain began to fade.

"Are you all right? Lady, are you all right?" someone requested. She could barely feel a hand on her shoulder as she tried to regain her ability to move or feel. As her limbs finally loosened Sara noticed that it had been Aiden who had ran out of his room to help her. She was almost tempted to simply lie still and wait for him to leave, but then she realized that she would spend the rest of the night in the care of Toby, Brianne, Sampson, and Elizabeth, something she did not want to happen.

"I'm going to get help for you, all right?" he commented as he got up and started to leave. Sara reached out and grabbed the cuff of his pant leg. He turned around and knelt back down at her side. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I'm fine, I just must have passed out. It's exhaustion I'm sure," she commented as she forced herself to sit up.

"I don't believe that one bit. I saw you fall. You were struggling like someone was attacking you," he stated as he offered her his hand to pull her off of the ground. She looked at it cautiously, and then pulled herself up without his help. He withdrew his hand slowly as if he wasn't sure if she had seen him offer it. Once she was again standing she took a few steps backwards and tried to think of what to do. She didn't want to go back, but she didn't want to stay here with him.

"I felt like someone was attacking me. My legs gave out from underneath me as I was walking back. I haven't danced like I did tonight in years and I think my muscles cramped," she commented. He gave her a look that clearly informed her that he did not believe her at all, but he didn't say anything. "I'm going to leave now. Thank you for your concern."

She ran one hand through her hair and turned back towards the door that led back to her room.

"Miss Kendal," he questioned.

"What?" she demanded.

"I know it might be a rude question, but I'm a pirate, humor me. What happened to you? You look miserable, and it's not just from the marks on your face. What's wrong?"

Sara hesitated a moment and considered what she should do. She wanted to talk to someone, she desperately wanted to talk to someone, but she didn't trust this man. She didn't know him. She bit the inside of her cheek in indecision.

"I don't know why you would care," she answered in an attempt to pull an answer from him that would help her make up her mind.

"I really don't know. Ever since I saw them pull you off of that ship I've worried about you," he explained with a shrug.

Sara studied his face once more and found that there wasn't a single hint of a lie in his eyes. He really was worried about her.

"It's a very long story, Captain Thomas," she warned.

"I have all the time in the world to listen to long stories," he replied with a slight smile.

Sara ran her hand through her hair again and crossed her arms over her chest, her posture radiating sarcasm and a bit of defiance.

"All right, fine, I'll tell you."

"He hit you?"

"Well it wasn't like it was a new experience," Sara stated.

"I know, but after so many years he simply took up hurting you again?" Aiden asked.

"What else was he supposed to do?"

The sun was going to rise at any moment, Sara knew it, but she didn't really care. She sat against the base of the platform that held the Captain's wheel with Aiden sitting next to her. She had never told so much to one person. She had found, quite to her surprise, that Aiden was quite easy to talk to. She never let it show, of course, but she found talking to him quite comforting. She looked back a bit and stared at the sky.

"I'm sorry, Miss Kendal, I didn't know," he muttered.

"What was to know? I've decided not to care," she remarked.

"Is that possible?"

"I don't know. I'll let you know when I find out," she responded before a large yawn escaped her lips. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

"I'm still sorry for all you've been through," he whispered. "And I pray you don't go through anything else that you don't wish to go through."

"Hmm," she sighed as she fell asleep, not realizing that for the first time in quite a while she had no nightmares.


End file.
